Theme and Variations
by Aishuu
Summary: Four vice captains try to make sense of the wreckage left in the wake of Aizen's departure from Soul Society as they remove the dead bodies from Central 46.
1. Chapter 1

**Theme and Variations  
**

_by sophia prester and aishuu_

Notes: This is a special project for me, since it was two years in the works. Basically, Sophia Prester and I created this as a study in perspective and limited points of view. The scene is the same, but it takes seeing all four points of view together to understand what's really going on. It definitely took a lot of work to put together, but I hope the result is worth it. This is an older piece which is complete, but was never posted here before. I'll be posting a part a week to make up for this oversight. It is not canon compliant anymore, but was compliant through 343 (yes, it's that old).

* * *

_Part One: Allegro (Matsumoto Rangiku)_

The thing that hit me as soon I stepped through the doors was the smell.

I'd already seen the carnage before, and I was prepared for that. I had forgotten, though, that dead bodies had a way of decomposing and the stench which filled the room almost made me wretch. It was a good thing I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, or else I'd be seeing it again.

I hadn't wanted to come here. Taichou was still with the Fourth, and the paperwork was piling up in the Tenth. Normally, I would let that slide – I hate paperwork, it's such a waste of time – but I really didn't want Taichou unable to see the top of his desk due to back work. He had enough to think about, and I'd intended on clearing some of it before he was released by the medics. However, orders were orders, and I'd been summoned to help deal with part of the aftermath of Aizen's treachery. I doubted I'd get to the paperwork before Taichou came back.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was best that we get back to routine. I don't want Taichou to think I'm coddling him or anything.

I glanced around the cavernous room of the Central 46, and noticed that they were more than halfway through removing the casualties. Iba was coming toward me, carrying a black-garbed body in his arms. Usually he would leer at me playfully, ogling my breasts, but as I stepped aside he merely nodded to acknowledge my presence. I nodded back, placing my hand on Haineko's hilt for reassurance. In the back of my mind, I felt her presence, and that gave me the confidence to move forward.

I moved leisurely, even though I was already more than two hours late. No one expected me to be on time, and I tossed my hair off my shoulders in a flippant move. If I acted naturally, maybe the world would respond in kind. Things had been insane ever since the ryouka arrived, and I wanted that normality back.

I let a smile curve my lips, ignoring the smell with my usual stubbornness. I was tempted to wrap my scarf around my face to help mitigate the stench, but decided that wouldn't accomplish much. It was best I get used to the smell, since I was going to be here for a while.

Glancing around, I tried to figure out which captain was in charge, but there was no one wearing the white haori in my sights. About half of the captains had been put out of commission by the recent fighting, but surely someone was in charge of such important work. After all, it wasn't everyday that the Gotei 13 went through the Central 46.

For a second I was tempted to turn around and leave since no one seemed to be coming forward to tell me what to do. However, it was likely that someone would eventually notice my delinquency. Best actually get to work – sooner started, sooner finished.

I noticed Nanao kneeling off to one side, looking intently at a blood spot on the floor. I know that blood splatters differently depending on the situation – forensics was one of the required courses at the Academy – but I'd never been very good at it. Nanao was, though – she was good at just about everything. And she would be a good person to pester for information. Nanao has always struck me as being a bit uptight, although she's getting better. We've been friends ever since our schooldays, although I think she'd like to deny that.

"Hello, Nanao-chan! You look tired - have you been here long?" I lifted my right hand and waved, pasting a smile on my lips. Nanao is always so serious that I feel the need to be extra perky, just to counter weigh that.

She glanced up, and I couldn't help but notice her normally perfect hair was escaping from its confinement. She must have been here for a really long time – I felt bad about slacking for a split second, before realizing it wasn't my fault she was so diligent.

"I've been here a while. Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou and I were brought in early to help the onmitsukidou gather evidence. So, perhaps three hours?" She paused, and for a second I wondered if she was going to lit into me for my tardiness. That would have been usual, but she lifted a hand to wipe the sweat off her face without comment. "And it feels much longer than that-this is not exactly relaxing work."

She was too tense, I thought. Not that she didn't have reason to be, but she could have spared me more than a look before returning to work. I was a bit annoyed that she hadn't noticed I was missing, too. No person likes to be forgotten.

However, this was Nanao. Somewhere along the way she'd missed the basic lessons in human interaction. When she got stressed out, she started to forget common courtesy. I couldn't get mad at her for being herself. Once upon a time, I might have been silly enough to take offense, but it was like blaming water for being wet. A person will always be true to their own nature.

Like Gin, crept unbidden into my mind.

"You can say that again. I don't see why they can't leave it to the lower seats," I said, pouting a bit. Of course I could understand why – you'd have to be an idiot not to get that there were secrets hidden in the Central 46. Still, this wasn't glamorous work, and I had the right to be annoyed at being stuck _here_ when my captain and division needed me.

Another thing about Nanao is that she completely misses the cues sometimes. She answered me with a well-thought out lecture without even looking at me. "Captains and vice-captains only for this. They went over that in the meeting. Although, I will say I wouldn't mind bringing some other trusted officers in here-but they're not even letting Ukitake-taichou's thirds in here."

"Probably best that way. Can't tell who you can trust anymore, especially after Gin - I mean, the traitors left," I said, quickly correcting the slip of the tongue, and trying to cover the faux pas by tossing my hair over my shoulder.

I still wasn't quite sure what I thought of Gin's role in the whole Aizen fiasco. I'd known that he wasn't always trustworthy – he'd had a way of breaking promises without even noticing. I'd never seen anything malicious in his actions – he did have a slight sadistic side, but he'd always protected what he valued.

I never figured he'd actually hurt me. I never figured he could turn his back on Soul Society like that.

I couldn't get that soft, sad smile out of my mind. That, more than anything, was the cause of my anger with him. He'd _known_ that going along with Aizen would be a betrayal of all he'd ever done. And yet, he'd still done it. My hand found Haineko again, this time steadying my rage. I didn't often lose my temper, and it would serve no purpose to now.

No, I'd wait until Gin and I met again before indulging in my anger.

My thoughts were distracted, and I only heard half of what Nanao was saying. "-mention it... no, never  
mind."

"Hmmm?" I leaned forward, hoping to hide my horrible lapse, and letting go of my sword. It was true I was slightly flighty, but that was no excuse. A vice captain should always be aware of her surroundings while on a mission – even one as "simple" as cleaning up a massacre.

Apparently my prompt set something off, because Nanao finally turned away from the stupid blood spot. "I find it interesting how many people took Aizen's 'confession' and explanations at face value. Wouldn't it have made more sense to keep us in the dark as to how he managed to fool us all? Why show his hand like that? Why give away what he'd been keeping secret about his zanpakutou all these decades?"

She spoke quickly, and I could tell that Aizen's actions had been preying on her mind. She was really off today – usually she manages better control of her emotions. I could only recall Shunsui-taichou managing to irritate her like this – well, if we discount the pre-graduation final test incident. Then again, we – including Miyako and Kaien – had promised never to discuss that again.

Funny that I think of them now. It's been months since I remembered to miss them.

"Because he's a raging egomaniac?" I rolled my eyes, trying not to be too amused at Nanao's paranoia. "He probably just wanted to rub in how much better he thinks he is. It must have been hard for him to play the part of the gentle captain for so long, not when he has that much pride."

She seemed to accept that, and I watched the tension in her shoulders ease a bit as she offered me a half-smile, the genuine one she uses too rarely. "You have a point there. After all, my captain isn't exactly known for his... restraint when it comes to matters of the ego."

"Well, he has you to make up for it, right?" I knelt down beside her, placing my hand on her shoulder. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't been very friendly to her in a while. Again, that was the late Shiba couple's fault. Things had really changed between Nanao and I after we'd lost them.

I'd always maintained my friendship with Gin, but somewhere along the way, I'd lost Nanao. I mentally resolved to fix that – if the last few days had taught me anything, it was that friends were easily lost. While Nanao was a bit too rigid for my tastes, she was loyal.

Well, at least I thought so. I'd always seen Gin as a constant as well.

My touch must have reached her, because she looked me directly in the eye and let out another torrent of frustration – what she would call "educated speculation."

"Sometimes I think I'd have an easier time reversing the tide," said Nanao. "But honestly, I do think there are times when my captain's antics are just that—antics. They keep people from figuring out what he's really thinking. Isn't it possible that might be the case here? We were pointed towards one possible explanation so that we'd ignore other possibilities?"

I love Shunsui to pieces, but even I recognized that his occasionally flippant attitude – and sometimes outright lascivious comments – had made Nanao off-balance. It's actually what she needs – she's always been the type to go straight from A to B without hindrance, but she does forget to stop and smell the roses. It's a good thing Shunsui reminds her there's more to life than duty, but I don't think she's really learned to cope with it as well.

I was about to chide her – gently – for over thinking things, but was interrupted by a sudden whoosh of air standing beside us.

"I trust that this is a work-related conversation?"

I tilted my head upward to look into the face of the Captain of the Second, Soi Fong. It was an unusual point of view, since she's so short.

"What else would it be, Soi Fong-taichou?" I asked perkily.

"Matsumoto, I'm not unaware of your tardiness," Soi Fong said in an icy voice, annoyed at my insouciance. She turned her head to look at Nanao. "It would be best if you don't let her interfere with your work, Ise."

Soi Fong is such a bitch sometimes, I thought. To my surprise, Nanao didn't immediately start siding with her.

"We were simply reviewing the implications of recent events. The evidence is clear that Tousen-taichou's shikai was involved in the slaughter. What I cannot tell is what-or who-caused the other injuries," she replied.

It was better than I'd hope for, and I felt myself soften. Nanao wouldn't directly confront the implication I was "no good," but she didn't hang me out to dry in an attempt to curry favor.

"Keep looking, then, Ise," Soi Fong ordered. "Matsumoto, you should join Iba and Hisagi in removing bodies." She gave a curt nod, then left.

I watched her go, before rising to my feet and brushing my clothes off. Soi Fong had never had much a sense of humor, and irritating her right now wouldn't be wise.

"Guess I'd better obey," I sighed. Then, because I couldn't resist, I said, "You know, I'd bet she'd be a hell of a lot easier to deal with if she just got laid regularly."

Nanao's eyes crinkled as she stifled a laugh behind her hands, and it did something to melt a bit of that _anger_ that'd been seething just beneath my careless attitude. Gin might be gone, but that wasn't the end of my world. I gave her a friendly wink, then spun around toward Iba, who had returned from his previous grim errand.

"Some guidance?" I said simply.

"Just drag the bodies after Ise or Nemu gives the go ahead. We're dumping them in the back, and some of the families are claiming them. The ones that aren't we're going to cremate tomorrow. And careful what you touch – Gin was a nasty bastard, and there's no telling if he left contact poison or something around. Wouldn't put it past him," Iba said.

The shock of hearing Gin's name echoed in my ears for several seconds. Iba hadn't known about my connection with Gin, though, so he hadn't meant to be nasty about it – and I wasn't about to let him upset me.

"Gotcha," I said, and pushed my sleeves back. With a bit of relief, I noticed Iba staring at my chest blatantly. Like most shinigami that spent time in the 11th, he made no attempt to hide his interest in my body.

Some women might have been offended at the look, but it was one I encouraged. I smiled and thanked him, shifted my stance to make my tits bounce a little for my audience.

He was almost drooling as I turned toward the closest corpse.

Nemu was tagging each scene she'd finished with with bright green notes, and I went over to the first. Bodies left out to putrefy for over a week aren't pleasant. I wished I had brought a ribbon to tie my hair back, since this was going to be disgusting work.

It took about fifteen minutes to remove the first body, since I couldn't heartlessly just drag them out of there. These people had been the leaders of Soul Society, and they deserved better than being treated like rubbish.

I won't describe how those bodies felt to my touch, or what they looked or smelled like. I don't like to think about it. I tried not to think on what I was doing.

After removing my third body, I moved toward the fourth. The work was going quickly, although dozens of bodies still remained. Along with the 46, all of the aides had been killed as well, which meant there was well in excess of a hundred to be dealt with.

As I wrapped my hands under the body so I could carry it away, I noticed a ring on the finger of its right hand, a delicate five-petal rose pattern that was the hereditary symbol of the Sugino family.

I felt my gorge rise as I realized whose body I was holding. This had been Sugino-fukutaichou.

I remembered her, the graceful shinigami who had been the vice-captain of the tenth when I had exited the Academy. I hadn't known her for long, but I had admired her greatly – she was everything a vice captain should be; strong and fearless, yet still elegant. About two years after I'd started, she'd accepted a nomination to sit among the Central 46.

To enter the Central 46, people have to be appointed by other members of the council. Many former shinigami were among them, along with some of the nobles of Soul Society. I couldn't remember how many shinigami I'd seen rise to their ranks.

Before seeing that ring, I must have unconsciously blocked out the knowledge that some of these people had been my friends. The slaughter had been distant, divorced from my emotions. Now I couldn't deny the horror that Gin had been part of.

I don't know how I managed to carry her outside without getting sick. But I did, because it was my duty to myself. I would not be sick. I would not be weak. The only appropriate response was to store my rage, and use it later.

It was hard to walk back into the chamber, and I couldn't bear to immediately go back to work. I didn't want to have another unpleasant recognition.

When in doubt, procrastinate. I glanced around, trying to find a likely distraction. My eyes settled on Hisagi, who was talking to Kira. Decisions, decisions – did I put up with the questionable company of Kira in hope of distracting myself, or did I go back to dragging away former comrades? The choice wasn't a stumper.

"Yo, Hisagi-kun!" I waved cheerfully, painting a smile on my face. Act natural, I told myself. Act natural, and he will, too – and that's what I needed. I didn't want to think of Sugino-fukutaichou.

"Matsumoto-san!" There was something in the way his expression shifted that was a boost to my ego. There are advantages of being beautiful, and one of them is power. Admiration is a form of deference. "Good to see you," he said, before remembering exactly where we were. "Under the circumstances, I mean."

Hisagi is a handsome-enough guy, although he's a touch too serious for my tastes. Luckily, he does know how to have a good time, which is why I've spent several evenings drinking him under the table. He is very nice, though, which explained why he was putting up with Kira.

I'm still not exactly sure what I think about Kira's whole role in the Aizen-mess. A part of me understands he was only following his captain's orders, but he'd followed his captain right off a cliff. A good vice captain should provide balance to their captain – while we have to be loyal, a part of that loyalty is to challenge their captain if they saw something wrong. It's a delicate line.

But ignoring him would be rude. "Kira-san," I said, keeping my voice level, even as I nodded an acknowledgment of his presence.

He seemed startled that I was doing so, and his eyes went wide with surprise. "Matsumoto-san," he replied, and he looked back and forth between us, like he couldn't decide what to do. "I want - um..."

"Yes?" I prompted with unusual sharpness. He wanted to apologize, that was obvious, but I wouldn't let him do so without a fight. Where was the man who had crossed swords with me several days ago?

"Um, I just remembered something I have to talk to Nanao-san about. Excuse me," he murmured, before scurrying off like a beaten dog.

He didn't rise to my challenge. At that moment, I decided he just wasn't worth the effort. The current Kira wasn't worthy of being called a shinigami, much less a vice captain.

For a second, I'd almost forgotten about Hisagi, who was looking at me with a quizzical expression. "Damn... Gotta say, I feel kind of sorry for the guy."

"Really? I don't." My smile was a bit meaner than usual, but that was the truth. Even if he'd lost his captain, he should be strong enough to stand on his own. No shinigami can ever rely on another – when you're on the battlefield, sometimes it's just you and the Hollows, and you have to be strong enough not to wait for rescue.

"It's not his fault. How many of us would have stood up to our captains if they seemed to be doing something a little..." He looked over toward Nanao, I couldn't help noticing. I understood – Nanao had followed her captain, too, leading to the destruction of Sōkyoku. "All I'm saying is, it's not like he knew what they were doing."

I started to fiddle with my hair, a habit I've had for as long as I can remember. It helps me think. "That's not why I'm pissed at him. He should be the first in line to try to kill him, not stumbling around like a terrified mouse."

"Huh?"

I didn't think I was that unclear, but I supposed spelling out my point wouldn't hurt. "He's not angry at Gin."

"Well... no..." Hisagi spoke slowly, and I couldn't help but tap my foot a little, feeling like he was going to drop a bomb. "I think that right now, maybe he... misses him?"

A natural enough assumption – after all, he'd been following Gin for decades. "He never really knew him, Hisagi," I said, mentally tagging on _and neither did I._ It suddenly occurred to me that I was being quite cruel to discuss this with Hisagi of all people, who had lost his captain as well. "How are you doing?"

"Missing my captain," he responded.

I really needed to be kinder, and think more before I spoke. "I'm sorry," I said, reaching out to give him a quick hug, and then stepping back before he could misconstrue my intentions as romantic. "That was mean of me, wasn't it?"

He shrugged, but I think he was blushing a bit. The only problem with being the quintessential blond bombshell is that a gesture of comfort could become awkward. "Ah, it's been a rough time for everyone," he said, and he was looking over my shoulder.

I turned slightly to see what was going on, and noticed Kira was backing away from Nanao quickly. Chances were he'd interrupted her, and she'd pinned his ears back. She never did like to be disturbed while working, but Kira didn't know her well enough to be cautious. Some of my anger at him started to melt a little. He was here, trying to do his work. That deserved some kind of respect.

"I also think he feels like shit over what happened to Hinamori."

Now there was a sensitive subject. I still hadn't resolved how I felt about that girl, especially since she'd gone after Taichou. She had been duped, but surely common sense would have compelled her to recognize that Taichou would never turn his back on Soul Society. Of course, I'd probably have sworn the same about Aizen a week ago. "Were they close?"

He gave a shrug. "Those two and Renji. Yeah, pretty close. I mean, after that trip to the living world back in the Academy." His finger traced over the scars on his cheek, and I wondered where he'd gotten them. "They were pretty tight. As friends, I mean."

"Oh." I leaned against the desk, wishing it was easier. There were layers upon layers of ties in the shinigami, natural enough, I suppose, with how long our lives are. "It's all so freaking complicated."

That surprised a laugh from him. "Yeah, you can say that again. I mean, just three days ago-has it only been three days? - I never would have thought..." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest in a self-protective movement. "I tell you, standing there with my sword at Tousen-taichou's throat? Hardest damn day of my life."

I knew what he was talking about. Holding onto Gin, Haineko at his throat, had been one of the hardest things I'd ever done. A shinigami does not draw a weapon unless they're ready to use it, and I was then. I probably should have just slit his throat, but I had waited, and then it was too late.

"We did what we had to," I said finally.

"Even Kira," he replied pointedly. His head tilted slightly and he gave me a considering look. "I just wish I knew how it could have taken him so damn long to figure out that his captain had gone rotten."

I laughed internally at that, but maintained my outward poise. "Gin was always good at disguising his intentions."

"So was Tousen. Look, it's just that I've got an idea what he's going through right now, so cut him a break, okay? But..."

"But what?"

"I got to wonder what happened to him, sometimes, He wasn't like this back in the Academy, all twitchy and nervous. Ichimaru's influence, I guess."

"Maybe." I couldn't stand to dwell on this topic anymore. I had approached Hisagi for a distraction, after all. "What are you doing after this is done?" I asked brightly.

He blushed so beautifully as we went into our usual playful banter, but he promised to join me at the bar later, corralling Iba along to pay our bill. It was good, familiar talk. Feeling revitalized, I turned back to the dead.

I saw Kira working not too far from me now, his face whiter than it should be. I still didn't want to talk to him, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to work alongside him. People respond to how they're treated, and if we – the Gotei 13 – started to ostracize him, he might completely lose it.

He started a little bit as I started to work beside him, collecting the body of one of the aides. I acknowledged him with a brief nod of my head, before gently smoothing the clothes of the victim and gathering him up into my arms.

By the time I returned, Kira had moved onto the next crime scene. He knelt down beside one of the victims, his face set with determined lines, although he was starting to look a bit green around the gills.

"Need a bit of help?" I asked casually.

He jerked upright, and his eyes went wide with barely contained panic. Wordlessly he nodded, and I moved to stand beside him. The corpse of one of the aides, freshly tagged by Nemu, lay between us.

Morbidly, I considered it a good metaphor for the entire situation. There were plenty of problems between us – that sword fight, Hinamori, Gin – which had caused an irrevocable change in our relationship.

Prior to this whole fiasco, we'd only known each other professionally. While he was Gin's vice captain, he had struck me as quiet and competent. That assessment hadn't changed, but my respect for his abilities – and my distrust in – had gone up exponentially. I vividly remember the shock to my wrists as I tried to lift Haineko after he used his shikai on her. Of course, Haineko was uniquely well-suited to defeating his Wabisuke, but that had been mere good fortune on my side.

I bent down to straighten the corpse, which was still sprawled rather haphazardly. It was a good thing rigor mortis had come and gone, because otherwise it would have been difficult to gather the body, which looked like it belonged to a man that weighed over two hundred kilos. While I was strong enough to move the man myself, it would be awkward since my arms weren't long enough to get a good grip on him.

Kira shifted to the other side of the man, squatting down across from me without needing direction. He murmured a prayer over the body quickly, a final wish for him to be rewarded in his next incarnation.

Sometimes I try to imagine what it would mean to live in the human realm, where no one had an assurance what would follow after death. While death in the Soul Society meant loss, it did not mean "the end." We knew what happened, and although we mourned for the departure of our friends, we had the comfort of knowing they were starting new lives in the mortal world.

Aizen wanted to change that. If Aizen had his way, he would crush the current system. Then all bets would be off. He was powerful, and if he managed to create a true Arrancar, there would be nothing I could do.

No, that's incorrect. As I helped Kira carry out the body, I realized that there was still one path open to me. I glanced over at Kira, whose face was set in stern lines, and wondered if I would have to fight him for the privilege.

I was going to kill Gin. It wouldn't be out of rage or angry, but out of necessity. I still loved the bastard, and it was the only thing I could offer him. I would prevent him from dishonoring himself even more, and maybe reclaiming a bit of his legacy. He'd been a captain in Soul Society for over forty years; surely he'd done enough good to be remembered as something other than a brutal traitor.

My expression must have changed, because Kira was looking at me curiously. "Matsumoto-san? Do you need to take a break?" he asked.

I must have looked a bit ill to provoke that reaction. Of course, I wasn't about to let on about my new plans. It's always best to keep your own counsel. That way, you have the advantage of surprise. Besides, people expect me to be lazy, and I see no reason to disappoint expectations.

"Some water sounds good," I said, rubbing a bit of the sweat from my brow. "I bet the Second Division has a relief station set up we can raid."

Kira murmured his agreement. Soi Fong is nothing if not an effective captain, and she'd brought plenty of supplies. Kira and I both accepted the tubes of water

I took a long drink of water, relieved by the coldness against my throat. Despite the horror of my surroundings, enough of the little girl I'd been in Rukongai remained to enjoy the blessing of water, no matter the situation. Glancing around, I was relieved to note that most of the bodies had been removed. We'd be done in an hour or so, which would give me time to check in on Taichou before night fell.

"Matsumoto-san?" Kira said. From the sound of his voice, he'd been trying to get my attention for a while.

"Sorry, sorry... I spaced out," I replied. "What is it?"

He didn't look nervous, not like he had when I had first approached him. He tilted his head, the overly long bangs falling away from his face so I could look into both of his eyes. "When I entered the Gotei 13, there were stories that you and Gin-tai- Ichimaru Gin were... close," he started.

I'd been stalked by those rumors my entire career, and I'd never made any issue of clarifying my relationship with Gin.

"I didn't think you were the type to dig up old gossip, Kira," I said mildly.

He actually blushed, and I realized that he'd heard _that set_ of _those_ particular rumors. While being the center of gossip had never bothered me before, I wasn't in the mood to deal with his misconceptions.

"I just... I wanted to know what he was like, before," Kira replied.

There was a sincerity in his voice that reminded me that I used to consider him a sweet, young innocent. Having his captain abuse his trust must have been a terrible betrayal, probably the first he'd ever witnessed. I had been around longer, though – women were never as quick as their male counterparts to rise in the Gotei 13 – and I was less idealistic.

So I told him. I haven't talked about those first days with Gin in Rukongai in decades, but if anyone deserved to know, it was Kira. It was like taking a purgative, recalling the boy who'd extend his hand to me to save my life, and how he'd changed as he grew. His smile, although omnipresent, had become less sincere, and he'd put up a wall between us.

I must have talked straight for fifteen minutes, with Kira only occasionally asking for clarification or offering encouragement. Unfortunately, our sudden lack of industriousness caught the attention of Soi Fong, and she sent over Omaeda to hassle us.

Omaeda's not one of my favorite people. I suppose he's competent – especially when you compare him to his brother. However, he's not brilliant, and he really doesn't deserve the rank of vice captain. A part of me – the part that remembers Rukongai and how hard it was to fight my way up – resents him for the privileged position his family bought for him.

Omaeda is very boorish, and after offering me a hello – well, my chest at least – he turned to Kira. "Soi Fong-taichou said there's still some bodies left in the back rooms. You need to start clearing them."

This rubbed me wrong, since Kira isn't Omaeda's subordinate, and the act of giving another vice captain an order is presumptuous and rude.

Kira, though, was more gracious than I. "Tell your captain I'll see to it," he said, before deliberately turning his back to Omaeda and addressing me. "Would you help me?"

"Sure," I said, although I was annoyed that I was going to be stuck here longer. But Hisagi had been right; I needed to give Kira a break, and I could only do that by treating him with the respect his position deserved. I wasn't about to trust him again anytime soon, but treating him like a criminal would be a bad idea. It might cause him to become one consciously, since people usually live up to expectations.

We headed towards the accountant's rooms, I looked at him. He was wary, his eyes carefully sweeping the area as we proceeded.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

He paused for a second, but I didn't wait for him. A second later he started walking again. "I'm just being cautious," he said.

"What are you so afraid of?" I asked him.

"Myself," he whispered in reply.

I rolled my eyes as we reached our destination. As I opened the door, I turned to chide him for that kind of attitude. "Really, Kira-"

But it was a sentence I never finished. The attack was unexpected, and all I could do was call for Haineko to fight for my life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Theme and Variations  
**

_by sophia prester and aishuu_

* * *

_Part Two: Andante (Ise Nanao)_

I had no idea what to expect.

No, that was not entirely true. One thing I have come to expect from my captain over the decades is that he will always manage to fox my expectations one way or another. This morning proved to be no exception.

Just last night we - all of the uninjured vice captains, to be specific - had received the order to report to Central 46 around mid-morning today. It was only early this morning that Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou and I were informed that the two of us were expected there somewhat earlier. The order had all the earmarks of a hasty decision made by someone who realized they'd forgotten something and were trying to cover their forgetfulness.

As soon as the hell butterfly departed, I gathered my things and informed my captain why I would be unable to help him with his paperwork as planned.

"We're to help the onmitsukidou with some of the finer aspects of forensic analysis. I believe the assumption is that they're better at looking for possible threats than they are at analyzing evidence of things that have already happened. Although," I explained, reaching up and adjusting my glasses slightly - Kyouraku-taichou was oddly silent, and I found myself prattling on to cover my resulting anxiety, "I am not entirely sure _what_ we're expected to find, not after the bodies have been sitting for two days at the very least. Any trace of kidou on the bodies will have degraded completely beyond recognition, and the bodies themselves... well, they've no doubt reached a significant state of decomposition by now. If we had been able to go in earlier-"

Kyouraku-taichou winced, no doubt at the rising asperity in my voice. I know full well that I have a bad habit of rambling on when annoyed, and the way this cleanup was being handled angered me the more I thought of it. To make matters worse, I was also growing angry at myself for being angry in the first place. With so many injured, it made absolute sense to see to their needs before dealing with the dead. But it was hard not to think of the wasted opportunity to find out more about what the traitors might have done and what they might be planning even now.

"All I am saying is that the place is going to be a horrible mess, and I have no idea if we'll be able to get anything useful from the corpses, especially-"

"Nanao-chan, _please_."

I took a deep breath and made yet another effort to compose myself. It wasn't often that Kyouraku-taichou simply cut me short, especially if I was trying to do so myself. "My apologies, taichou. I didn't mean to-"

"It's quite all right, Nanao-chan." Instead of being laden with the expected solicitousness and reassurance - something I more than occasionally found to be patronizing - his words were borderline curt. He barely even looked up at me when he spoke, and he turned back to whatever he was reading almost immediately. "I'll look at a copy of your written report when you're done."

I nodded, then took my leave. There was no florid sympathy (not that I would have wanted any) for having to take on such an unpleasant task. Its absence was unsettling. It also struck me as strange that Kyouraku-taichou would want a written report, as he typically preferred me simply to tell him everything in my 'dulcet, soothing tones.' Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that I have seen him read and write poetry, I would swear the man was functionally illiterate, given how often I am called upon to read him his paperwork.

Yes, I had to admit that this uncharacteristic sobriety of his - not the kind that came from abstinence, no, it went much deeper than that - was disturbing. I told myself not to worry about it, but I could not force my mind to let it go. Even after all that had happened with Aizen and also with Yamamoto-soutaichou, Kyouraku-taichou had seemed his normal affable self until last night, until the hell butterflies had come with their orders to...

Oh. Yes. _You are truly an idiot, Ise Nanao_.

I stopped in the middle of the road and cleared my throat and adjusted my glasses once again. My captain's distant, almost testy attitude made perfect sense, now.

Kyouraku-taichou had known many of the members of the Central 46, had served alongside some of them when they were captains, and had no doubt had some of them as teachers at the Academy. This very morning, I would be helping to identify, analyze, catalog, and dispose of the bodies of his friends and contemporaries, and I had just complained about this to him as if I had been talking about cleaning up slabs of rotten meat. I bit my lips together and wished I could take back what I had said. I was fairly sure my face was bright red with shame, but no one I passed on the way to the center of Seireitei looked at me strangely in any way.

It could have been worse, I told myself. It could have been much worse. A few years ago, I had overheard a brief bit of conversation between my captain and his best friend. I had not intended to eavesdrop, but the unusually serious tone of their discussion caught my attention long enough for a few sentences to imprint themselves upon my memory. Ukitake-taichou's illness had been particularly bad that year, as I recall, and there had just happened to be a recent vacancy in the Central 46. From what little I heard, it sounded as if he were seriously considering it - and as if my own captain were very much in favor of the idea. If his health had not had a dramatic turn for the better just a few days later, Ukitake-taichou might well have accepted the position.

Yes, things could have been very much worse indeed. If anyone had asked me why I wrapped my arms tightly around myself just then, I would have told them it was due to a sudden chill.

By the time I reached the gates to Central 46, my thoughts were of an appropriately somber cast for the work ahead. Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou was already there, waiting patiently for me even though I was a good quarter of an hour early. She bowed slightly in greeting, but her expression didn't change in the slightest.

There are times when I wonder about her. She's often very quiet, but some of the things she says and suggests in the Women's Committee meetings... well, I imagine growing up with someone like Kurotsuchi Mayuri as a parent _would_ have a definite impact on one's psyche.

Perhaps she was waiting here because it was better than waiting around at the Twelfth. It was a likely enough explanation.

"Here, take this, Ise-san," she said quietly, holding out an opaque glass jar. She did not look me in the eyes. "It will help."

When I took the jar from her, she flinched back as my hand touched hers and then she re-assumed her typical patient, hands-folded, head down posture. I unscrewed the lid, and the odor of menthol made my eyes water. "Excellent thinking, Nemu-san," I told her. I daubed a little of the ointment around my nostrils; it may have caused my sinuses to feel as if they were being irrigated with acid, but it was better than what I would be smelling otherwise.

Two members of the onmitsukidou came to open the outer gates, bowing us in silently. I offered the ointment back to Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou, but she shook her head.

"I don't need any," she said almost as if she were apologizing. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing as I tucked the jar into my sleeve and followed her through the long series of gates. I wasn't sure which took me more aback: the thought of what kinds of things went on in the Twelfth that would inure her to such things, or the idea that the notoriously withdrawn and detached Kurotsuchi Nemu had thought ahead regarding the needs of others. Then again, I suppose I didn't know her as well as perhaps I should.

I had a feeling that people not being what they were expected to be was going to become the theme of the day.

Even with the ointment, the stench was nearly unbearable. Oh, I was familiar enough with the odor of death. Who among us wasn't? Those of us of a certain age remembered all too well the the wave upon wave of dead some sixty, sixty-five years ago. So many dead from the war in the living world that even the highest seated officers were sent out day after day after day on konso patrol through fire-ravaged cities and mortar-churned battlefields. So many dead under such horrible circumstances that even my own captain could not recall any other time when so many souls had become Hollows with such terrible swiftness.

Yes, this smell was all too familiar, even without the overtones of petroleum and gunpowder, scorched metal and burning rubber. It was familiar, and it had no place being here. I adjusted my glasses and forced myself to look at the tiers of seats and their occupants. Part of me was quick to catalog the signs of advanced decomposition (large blood-colored blisters, imminent skin slip - I would have to warn the others about that, first signs of bloating... roughly a week since death). The rest of me was simply staring in wide-eyed horror.

No, this had no place in the middle of Seireitei. None at all.

I was still gaping when Soi Fong-taichou headed straight for us, jaw and fists clenched as if she were going to upbraid us for being early. I admit to a flutter of anxiety; despite her obvious competence, the woman has never struck me as being entirely rational, and for all I knew she could see being ahead of schedule to be as great an offense as being behind.

Instead, a sharp wave of her hand brought one of her onmitsukidou to her side. He had a bundle of tags in each hand. One bundle was yellow, the other was green. "Use these to mark each of the bodies once you've finished your examination," she said. She looked around at the horror-filled galleries, and I thought I could see her swallow hard. Perhaps some of the men and women in those seats had been known to her at one time. Then again, it was distressing enough seeing the bloated, discolored bodies and trying not to think of how long they had been sitting there, with all of us unknowing, and some of us even cursing them for their unwillingness to offer any lenience towards Kuchiki Rukia. I had not been one of these, but I remember thinking at the time that if only Ukitake-taichou had been there, he might have been able to push for clemency. Now, however...

I pushed unspeakable imaginings aside and instead focused on Soi Fong's scowling face as I took my set of tags. Nemu was quick to take the green tags, and seemed quietly pleased with herself for having acquired them. It was such a quirky and unexpectedly childish thing that I couldn't help smiling slightly. I accepted the yellow tags; color did not matter to me.

"Mark the location where the body was found on the tags," Soi Fong-taichou ordered us. "That may be of some help in identifying the remains more quickly." The scowl actually faded for a moment, leaving a pained expression, and I was forcefully reminded that she was a decade younger than I. "If you happen to recognize someone, write down the name."

Her tone made it clear just how likely she thought that would be.

I took in the rest of the instructions and her terse explanations as she repeated and clarified the same orders I had received that morning. Her team had only checked for booby-traps and for anyone who might be hiding in the building. Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou and I were, as I had surmised, to occupy ourselves with the finer points of gathering evidence and figuring out how Aizen and his followers had managed to kill an entire room full of Soul Society's most illustrious citizens with no one being the wiser for it for days. Unohana-taichou and Isane-fukutaichou would be responsible for any autopsies to be performed - it was up to the two of us to determine on a case-by-case basis if any were necessary. Otherwise, the rest of the vice captains would remove the bodies to the plaza behind the Center. The Fourth Division would then tend to the bodies, as was their wont. Once identified and made as presentable as possible, the bodies could be claimed by their families. Any who could not be identified would be cremated and at least be buried with honor, if not name.

We quickly and silently set to work. If any of this bothered Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou, I could not tell. As for me, I did what I could to stay composed and to prepare myself. The odds were that I would eventually recognize one of the people I was examining, and if that happened I could not let that stop me from doing my job.

First things first, however. I went to the center of the room and lifted my hands as if I were going to offer up a plea for clemency to all those men and women slumped over their desks or half-fallen out of their chairs. "Everyone, please refrain from performing any kidou for the next few minutes, and if anyone has done so since entering this chamber, please let me know immediately," I called out. It was unlikely that anyone there would or did - the onmitsukidou preferred hand-to-hand combat - but I did not wish to make a potentially disastrous assumption.

Way of Binding Fifty-Nine, Eye of the Stooping Hawk, did not require much power but it did require concentration, time, and a very good memory. It was one of the few spells where I used each hand seal exactly as taught rather than merely feeling the shape of the kidou in my mind. Forty-five seconds of straight chanting, and the result was rather anticlimactic. A web of pale light spread throughout the room and draped itself over every surface like fine, glowing gauze. It stayed there for a moment, then faded away. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed not to see any patches glowing bright blue to indicate where kidou had been used. Relieved, because it simplified our investigation. Disappointed, because I had been hoping to learn more about how Aizen's zanpakutou worked.

I wondered if we would ever find out just how badly we had all been duped. I wasn't sure if I would feel better or worse if I did find out.

Once the web dissipated, Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou headed to the rearmost gallery and began to scan each body with what I assume was some sort of repurposed medical instrument. It was readily apparent that while she was making good time, she was also doing a thorough job. It made me feel a little less like I was avoiding the inevitable when I elected to survey the room as a whole before joining in on the examination of individual bodies.

I stood in the center of the room and turned around slowly, trying to see everyone and everything as a group, not as individuals. The onmitsukidou had faded back to guard the entrances and were easy enough to ignore.

I tried to look for a pattern. I tried to ignore that I was looking at what had been the fulcrum of our government. I tried not to think about what this would mean in the years, decades, and even centuries to come.

Ignorance was impossible, and so was lack of thought; my only success was in finding a pattern - or patterns.

I tried not to wish that my captain was here with me.

The first pattern I noticed was a chilling one. It was obvious that no one had tried to leave his or her seat. Yes, there were several people who were not in their seats, but the few footprints that the supposedly stealthy onmitsukidou had not clumsily trampled into oblivion told me that these people had not been attempting to flee. I tagged each in turn as I examined them, my stomach clenching more and more as in each case I noted the complete lack of defensive wounds.

These people had not been trapped behind large desks. They had had every opportunity to flee their attackers, but the gash on the side of one aide and the way she had fallen suggested she was simply sliced open as she walked by. The papers she was carrying had not scattered far, and many of them were stuck to the ground, having fallen onto a rivulet of blood from a body several feet away. Behind her, a series of dainty, bloody footprints led back to where another of her fellows had been cut down. I checked, nodding when I saw that the soles of her slippers were covered with flakes of dark, dry blood.

No, ignorance _was_ possible; they had not known what had happened to them or what had been going on around them. I put that thought out of mind for the moment; it lent itself to unsettling fancy, and what I needed here was fact.

Fortunately, the other thing that leapt out at me was entirely factual - visible and measurable. Once I could get past the horror of the bodies, it was easy to see the odd pattern of gashes in the wood along much of the eastern quadrant of the room. I believed I knew what had happened, but I needed to be certain.

"Nemu-san, please make note of the kinds of wounds the subjects received, and also of any other damage." It was so much easier to think of them as subjects, at least for now. Otherwise, we would never be able to get through this.

Nemu nodded and then her expression became vague as she calmly ran down a list of everything she had already seen that morning: "Tags one through eight, eleven through fourteen, seventeen: single strike, straight jab with exit wound, consistent width of sixteen centimeters. Tags nine, ten, thirteen, eighteen through twenty-one: stabbing with exit wounds with a consistent width of twenty centimeters, multiple strikes, with ten, thirteen, nineteen and twenty also having gashes along outer extremities and torso running in same direction, averaging one point five degrees off parallel. Tags twenty-two, twenty-six, thirty, thirty-seven, single gash, a lateral strike descending from subject's right pectoral down across the torso, average of seventeen centimeters at deepest point. Tags twenty-three through-"

"Ah, yes," I stammered. "Just... any further detail you can gather, correlated with location in the chamber - in writing, if you don't mind," I said, cutting her off much as my captain had cut me off earlier that morning.

If Nemu was offended by the interruption, she gave no sign of it. There was no reaction other than a meek, obedient nod. I watched her go back to her work, and allowed myself to indulge in what I knew was a most uncharitable thought: _At least I'm not that bad._

No, I wasn't that bad (was I?), but I began to wonder when I stopped spending time simply being with my friends, or when I allowed my captain's flirting to stand in place of a truly intimate relationship, or when I began to allow my activities with the Shinigami Women's Association to become what passed for a social life.

I have wondered about these things before, and I wondered - as I always did - if any lasting change would come about _this_ time.

That could all be dealt with later; right now, I had work to do. I continued my analysis and I continued to tag the bodies that Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou had not yet reached, the ones on the floor and the ones in the first tier. It didn't take long for the patterns of the wounds to sort themselves into the clear groups she had begun to lay out for me. Single penetrating wounds. Multiple penetrating wounds. Slashing wounds by someone who clearly preferred an upwards, backhand strike. Slashing wounds by someone who favored a lateral, forehand strike.

I also found that the bodies she had noted as having the multiple penetrating wounds were all clustered just above the gashes in the wood I had noticed earlier. Even though I could envision what had happened all too clearly, I still needed to double-check myself. I needed to know, not just guess. After all of the lies, I needed to make sure that what went into my report was the truth and could not be disputed by anyone, no matter how reluctant to believe the evidence already presented to us.

I stooped down, finding the slash mark closest to the center of the room. I touched it gently, releasing just enough reiatsu to feel the shape of it with my spiritual senses. I then pulled out a stick of charcoal and sketched a rough circle and a few symbols around the mark: Way of Binding, Thirty-Four, Arrow's Flight-quite handy for figuring out who had struck which blows in melee practice if there was some disagreement about the referee's acuity. It was familiar enough that I didn't even need to vocalize the chant.

When I was finished, a constellation of glowing slash marks covered that quadrant of the room. They were all the same shade of yellow, and they all glowed with the same intensity. Yes, enough time had passed that the results would be nebulous, but it was clear that all of these slashes had all been made by the same weapon - and all at more or less the same time.

Impossible for a single sword, even factoring shunpo into the equation. But the spell might count a hundred blades as one single blade, _if_ they were all part of the same shikai.

I had only seen Suzumushi's second release once, but that was enough. I could easily envision a hundred double-pointed blades slicing through the air and embedding themselves before being recalled. "Oh, I've got you now," I muttered. There could be no doubting, no disputing what had happened here.

I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until someone else spoke in reply.

"Got who?" The deep, quiet voice was familiar, and quite unexpected.

I would like to think that I didn't yelp in surprise, but I fear that I may have.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou! You're here awfully early." Yes, it was inane, but he _had_ startled me, after all.

He looked around the room, but not at me. At first glance he was perfectly, unnaturally composed, much like Kurotsuchi. But I knew Hisagi better than that; not well, but enough to expect more of a reaction. Righteous outrage, perhaps. Or simmering anger. Either of those would fit with what I'd seen from him over the years. It wasn't until I looked more closely and saw the hard look in his eyes and the way he kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself that I recognized that composure for the façade it was. When he spoke, his voice lacked inflection. "Not that early. Just a couple of hours. Hour and a half, maybe."

More time had passed than I had imagined, then. Of all the people to show up, and show up early at that. Why did it have to be him? And why now?

The effects of my recent kidou were fading quickly, but not quickly enough. Hisagi was looking at them, unblinking and unmoving. He looked ill, and I wished I knew what to say to him. The thirty-fourth Way of Binding was a familiar enough spell; he had to know it, and he had to know what it meant.

It was one thing to have it proven that Ichimaru-taichou was corrupt. There were few who admired the man and many who feared or despised him. Aizen-well, that was a different story altogether, but his actions and words after his miraculous 'resurrection' had damned him past any redemption. Already, some were talking about him as if the man who vanished into the skies had in fact murdered our beloved Aizen-taichou. But Tousen? What had anyone actually seen him do, other than deliver Abarai-fukutaichou and Kuchiki-taichou's sister to Aizen? Yes, it had looked bad, but he had spilled no blood. He had not raised his hand against anyone. Or so we had thought.

Until then, I had not known just how much I had wanted to believe in the growing speculation that Tousen was playing a dangerous game and was somehow working against Aizen. And if _I_ had wanted to believe it...

"I'm sorry," I said. It was inadequate, but what else could I say?

"I'll be okay." He was still staring at the fading yellow lights. "I just thought I'd come here and, I don't know... do something? It's not as if I have anything else going on at the moment." The strain in his voice was evident, but then it was gone again, and he looked at me, curious and awkward. It was not the sort of situation that lent itself to small talk, but silence seemed just as inappropriate. "So... I guess I'm not the only one who's early. You and Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou got here before I did." He sounded almost accusing as he looked around at the green and yellow tags scattered throughout the room. "What are you two doing?"

I knew I should be sympathetic, but it had been a trying morning, and something about his simply being here made me want to go on the defensive. I explained about the message we had received this morning, and I remembered Kyouraku-taichou and I tried not to be terse.

By the time I had finished explaining (and complaining about the onmitsukidou after looking around to make sure that Soi Fong-taichou was sufficiently elsewhere) Hisagi's face was so tight and drawn it was as if he'd aged fifty years as he stood there watching the yellow lights fade into nothing.

"Have you found anything?" he asked after a moment. He sounded both exhausted and wound up, and he seemed reluctant too look me in the eye. "Anything besides, well, that." Hisagi inclined his head towards the area I'd been studying.

I pushed my glasses back up and looked around. Nemu had tagged a good number of the bodies, and her green tags outnumbered my yellow by a noticeable percentage. "Other than what you saw, nothing conclusive. Well, some evidence that they were hypnotized. I just wish I knew more about the traitors' usual fighting styles when not using their shikai or bankai."

There wasn't any real need to know other than curiosity, but for me that was ever need enough. Did Aizen kill the majority of the people here, or did he leave that to his followers?

"Tousen-taichou, he... um..." Hisagi mimed an abrupt, downward slash. It did not suggest anything I had seen so far. "If it was just an ordinary Hollow and no challenge. I mean, our styles all vary depending on what we're facing, and how it fights back," he pointed out. His awkwardness was painful to watch. I had no idea what he was trying to convey. "Right?"

"These people didn't fight back, Hisagi-fukutaichou. They never had the chance," I snapped. "Tell me - where is the justice in that?"

His face went a horrible shade of gray. I had never been so grateful in my life that my captain was nowhere in the vicinity.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. He didn't look at me. "That was thoughtless."

"Yes. It was." He sounded more exhausted than angry. I expected him to stalk off, but after a few seconds of frosty silence he turned and looked down at me with a crooked smile. "Still, I guess it's better than having people just shut up and stare at the ceiling the minute you walk into the room."

"I didn't mean to be cruel. It's simply that my captain encourages me to say what I think." I turned away from the people Tousen had cut down and tried to think about the best place to start tracing some of the other cuts. "He makes allowances for me, but it can be a bad habit. In some circumstances."

One of the people in the center of the room had a clear example of the upwards, backhand strike (or was it a left-handed forehand strike? I would have to make some inquiries.)

"So, what are you thinking now, Ise-fukutaichou?"

"That I have work to do." Yes, this wound would make a good place to start. Unfortunately, it meant putting my hand almost _in_ the wound. "If you wouldn't mind-"

"Why?"

I stopped, my hand inches from the body. He had missed his cue to leave me to my work. "Why what?"

"Why do this?" He swooped one hand around to indicate the chaos surrounding us. His voice was loud enough that Nemu stood up and stared down at us, cocking her head slightly. "It's not going to bring them back! It's not going to tell you anything we don't already know - that they're dead and that Aizen-taichou and the others killed them!"

I remained frozen, hand just above the wound and stared at him as he ranted.

"Why can't we just bury them with honor and be done with it? What good is all this cataloging and... oh, hell with it," he muttered, stalking off. He pulled his zanpakutou clear of his sash and held it up by its scabbard, waving it lazily over his head. "I'm going to put her away so I can work. That's what I came here for, right?"

As he walked away, I stared down at the body, wondering who he was, and if I had ever met him. Hisagi-fukutaichou had a point. We knew who had done this. How much of this investigation was me turning this into a puzzle because puzzles were easier to deal with than tragedies?

No, I told myself. No. I was doing this because it was necessary, because these people deserved to have the truth regarding their deaths known beyond any shadow of any doubt.

"Besides, Yamamoto-soutaichou ordered it," I whispered. The truth to be known, and the bodies to be removed by us vice-captains. We would serve as a final honor guard, and while we would know the truth, we would also relay that truth to our divisions in a way that would preserve dignity rather than provoke disgust.

I reverently sketched a circle on the man's robes and once again invoked Arrow's Flight. As I had thought, this wound had been inflicted by a different weapon. The flashes of light were a pale violet this time. I counted six. Four of them were by bodies Nemu had tagged.

Hisagi-fukutaichou headed my way again. He'd not only found somewhere to secure his zanpakutou, he'd managed to regain his composure. In fact, he seemed almost curious about the violet marks I had called forth.

"With that few marks, I'm guessing Aizen-taichou. I kind of get the feeling he doesn't like to get his own hands all that dirty. Probably sets Ichimaru to do most of his dirty work," he said as casually as if he were recounting the foibles of his junior officers.

We all have our ways of coping, I told myself. I was just about to set back to my work when Hisagi stopped and bent down to-

"Wait! Don't touch that!" But of course he had. He stood up, something cradled in his hand, and blinked at me.

"It's just a kogatana," he said, still blinking at me. He held up the object so I could see exactly what it was - a small, utilitarian blade that some of shinigami keep in a pocket attached to their scabbards.

"And now it has your reiatsu imprinted all over it," I snapped. If any more people decided to be _helpful_ and show up early they had better stay well clear of where I was working.

"It's mine. It fell out of my scabbard," he said, calmly as if talking to an irrational harridan with no sense of perspective. He secured the blade in his belt. "The fittings are worn."

"I'm sorry. It's been, well it hasn't been a very good morning..." I muttered. But still, there was the principle of the thing. "But if you find anything else, even if it seems unimportant-"

"I know, I know. Don't touch. So, um... what should I do now? I mean, other than not screwing up your investigation?" He rubbed the back of his head and laughed nervously as if inviting me to join in on a joke I found in no way amusing.

I passed along Soi Fong-taichou's instructions and explained the tag system without elaboration. He nodded understanding, then looked around the room as if hoping to find something and failing.

"Just... start anywhere?" he asked.

"Anywhere you see a green or yellow tag."

"Right." He wandered off, pausing from time to time until whatever logic or reason he was using led him to start with a tall man who was seated near the entrance. I chose to believe it was because the man was safely far away from where I was working.

"Idiots. I am surrounded by well-meaning idiots," I muttered. It was something I had said so often that it was almost a mantra, and comforting in its own way.

I worked in blessed silence for a while, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of Nemu's device, and the occasional snatch of conversation between the onmitsukidou. At one point, Hisagi and Soi Fong-taichou were discussing something, but I didn't bother to listen in.

Oomaeda was the next to show up, and thankfully Soi Fong-taichou headed him off before he could come over and try to lord it over me. He was in no way senior to me, but he acted as if his family rank actually had some bearing on his rank within the Gotei 13. For some reason, he also insisted on believing that women found him attractive. In any event, Soi Fong ordered Nemu and I to shift our pattern of examining the room. Three of the six judges who presided over Central 46 had already been tagged, one by me, two by Nemu, and Soi Fong wanted the remaining ones tagged and taken out to the Fourth Division before we attended to any more of the lesser ranked members.

To my surprise, Soi Fong joined Hisagi and Oomaeda in carrying out the corpses. Nemu and I watched in silence, then looked at each other for a moment before returning to the remaining three judges. Even in death, their robes made them stand out relative to the others.

I made myself slow down and show all the respect due to them, but I couldn't stop myself from remembering that there were forty others still left to see to, plus their aides and retainers. It was going to be a very long day.

The work went slowly, but, as often happens when I am engrossed in a job that mandates careful attention to detail, time passed without my noticing. Even the smell seemed to fade to the background as the minutia of my work overtook me. Wounds and decaying flesh became academic curiosities. Bodies became numbers on yellow tags.

I knew full well that later, possibly in the middle of the night tonight, the reality would overtake me. For now, though, I took the abstraction for what it was - a gift that allowed me to do my job - and tried not to wonder if my captain had said anything about visiting the Thirteenth tonight.

I don't know how much time passed before a surreally cheerful voice snapped me back into time and stench.

"Hello, Nanao-chan! You look tired - have you been here long?"

I looked up, not at all surprised to see Matsumoto Rangiku. She'd been here before, I recalled. She and Hitsugaya-taichou had been the first to discover this horror.

"Matsumoto-san. I've been here a while." I wasn't sure how long, but did my best to calculate based on the progress that had been made. "Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou and I were brought in early to help the onmitsukidou gather evidence. So, perhaps three hours?" It didn't really matter. We would be here until the work was done, and there was plenty of it left. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. The fabric carried a strong odor of decay, and I realized I would likely have to burn everything I'd worn today. I would have to ask Kotetsu Isane if she knew how to get such odors out of hair. "And it feels much longer than that-this is not exactly relaxing work."

"You can say that again. I don't see why they can't leave it to the lower seats," Rangiku said as I turned back to  
my work.

"Captains and vice-captains only for this. They went over that in the meeting." I would not insult Matsumoto by reminding her it was a matter of honor for the elders to be attended by the highest-ranking officers. Thought turned to speech somewhere along the way. I'd forgotten how easy it was to talk to Rangiku. "Although, I will say I wouldn't mind bringing some other trusted officers in here - but they're not even letting Ukitake-taichou's thirds in here."

I wonder if Kiyone had any idea of how close she had come to losing the man she so fawningly worshiped.

"Probably best that way. Can't tell who you can trust anymore, especially after Gin - I mean, the traitors left." Even though I was not looking at Rangiku, I knew her well enough to know that her too-easy smile had faded with the rising seriousness in her voice.

"No... no, you can't." I wasn't going to point out to her how very few people had trusted Ichimaru in the first place. Even after we had seen what Aizen had done, it took him explaining his plan to us before it truly sank in. As if we were idiots, I thought sourly. Poor, blind idiots...

A thought formed in the back of my mind, a shadow that cast a chill over me as fact connected to fact in cold, logical order. "In fact, now that you mention it... no, never mind."

I wasn't sure I should voice these thoughts here. These dangerous, paralyzing thoughts. I looked up at Rangiku, then looked back down at the bloodstain again and let thought connect to thought.

Rangiku leaned forward, and made an interested sound. True interest, not just polite interest.

I took a deep breath and took a risk. It was easier than I thought, but then again, Rangiku had always been easy to talk to (and I really should talk to her more often).

I sat back on my heels, hands folded over my thighs as I looked around at the fruits of Aizen's labors. "I find it interesting how many people took Aizen's 'confession' and explanations at face value." I looked up at Rangiku, trusting she would tell me if my logic was flawed, or if I was so shaken that I was haring off after shadows. "Wouldn't it have made more sense to keep us in the dark as to how he managed to fool us all? Why show his hand like that? Why give away what he'd been keeping secret about his zanpakutou all these decades?"

I spoke slowly, carefully, and quietly, consciously stepping on my tendency to raise my voice as I worked my way through a train of thought that would rather be expressed shrilly.

Too many people around, I thought. Too many people I might not be able to trust (and really, given how Tousen had deceived us all, could I really even trust Rangiku...). No. That was no doubt exactly how Aizen wanted us to think.

Besides, nothing I was saying would be dangerous if it made its way back to the traitors.

"Because he's a raging egomaniac?"

Rangiku's answer nearly surprised a laugh out of me, and I had to think, as she went on about Aizen's pride, of some more benign expressions of outrageous pride. Some of which were almost - _almost _- endearing.

I had to admit, she had a point. A rather good one at that. "After all," I also admitted, "my captain isn't exactly known for his... restraint when it comes to matters of the ego."

Or matters of poetry. Or romance. Or liquor. Or sleep.

"Well he has you to make up for it, right?" When Rangiku crouched beside me and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, it broke some of the tension I'd been carrying since this morning.

"Sometimes I think I'd have an easier time reversing the tide." That part was jovial, and not a little infected with my captain's tendency towards poetic imagery. Joviality could only last so long under these circumstances, however, and my thoughts were soon back to spinning out thread after thread of logic. "But honestly, I do think there are times when my captain's antics are just that - antics. They keep people from figuring out what he's really thinking. Isn't it possible that might be the case here? We were pointed towards _one_ possible explanation so that we'd ignore other possibilities?"

Again, I had to keep my excitement from pushing my voice louder and louder, until at last, I shook my head, seeing no way to come to any kind of sane conclusion.

"You can't go around suspecting everyone, though, Nanao-chan. That's exactly what Aizen wants us to do."

Exactly what I had concluded myself just a moment ago. But then, what other choice did we have?

"I trust that this is a work-related conversation?"

Both our heads snapped up at the sudden interruption.

"What else would it be, Soi Fong-taichou?" Rangiku's tone was light, just a hair's breadth from insolent.

"Matsumoto, I'm not unaware of your tardiness." Soi Fong's cool demeanor was holding, but seemed about ready to crack. Or possibly curdle. Someone more sure of her own ability to command would not talk to a vice captain as if she were a raw recruit.

I was not impressed.

"It would be best if you don't let her interfere with your work, Ise."

I made a note to share certain observations with my own captain later on. "We were simply reviewing the implications of recent events," I pointed out, resisting the temptation to pitch my voice as if I were talking to a dimwitted child. Regardless of what I thought of her (fear and contempt were not a pleasant combination), I needed to inform her of what little I knew. "The evidence is clear that Tousen-taichou's shikai was involved in the slaughter. What I cannot tell is what - or who - caused the other injuries."

"Keep looking, then, Ise. Matsumoto, you should join Iba and Hisagi in removing bodies." A curt nod was all the farewell we received. I tried to tell myself that she was under as much strain as we were, but that did nothing to change the fact that the woman was fundamentally unlikable.

"Guess I'd better obey," Rangiku said with all the enthusiasm she used to greet her homework back at the Academy. "You know, I'd bet she'd be a hell of a lot easier to deal with if she just got laid regularly."

I swallowed a laugh and the temptation to agree out loud. Neither would have been appropriate, but oh, the temptation was there. I returned to my work and made a mental note not to let to much more time pass before seeking out Rangiku's company again.

I only hoped that I would remember. And that I would act upon the remembrance.

It took me longer than I should have to return to work. My spirits - briefly lightened - dropped again and I stared at the next body for what felt like an hour before I could bring myself to look at yet another wound (this one had glowed blue).

What else was there to find out? I tried not to ask myself that as I identified yet another of Gin's probable victims. We knew who the killers were. The only question that had truly bothered me - the extent of Tousen's involvement - had already been answered. But still, I owed those who were left the same thoroughness that I had given the ones I had first examined (just as I owed my captain that apology - and possibly a bottle of sake).

The abstraction that had made the first few hours go quickly did not return. I was ready to leave. I wanted to talk about so many things (and preferably far, far from here). I wanted to figure out what it was that wasn't adding up.

I wanted the other vice-captains to realize that no, I was not there to answer their pointless questions that had already been answered in the briefing they attended that morning. Honestly, how was I expected to get anything done if I had to stop work every five minutes?

Something wasn't adding up, I thought as I continued to study a bloody waraji tread. The red marks trailed off into dust, and then were obscured by other footprints. By the time Hitsugaya-taichou had arrived, the blood spills would have been dry or mostly dry, so this was likely left by one of the murderers. I could not trace it to one of the victims. I was so close to reconstructing the actions of the three traitors (Tousen and Gin were easy enough to pinpoint, based on Arrow's Flight, which meant that Aizen must have gone over... there, but that made no sense - it was nowhere near the judges' seats...) but every time I thought I had it, someone else had yet another stupid question and I lost my train of thought.

Whoever it was left swiftly enough. My thoughts, however did not re-organize themselves so quickly. What I did know was that I had missed something - not evidence, but the explanation for it. I had identified all three attackers, and where they had been in the room. Something, though... something wasn't making sense. There was an assumption I was making, but I couldn't pin down what it might be. I was better at logic than this, I reminded myself. I should be able to identify a simple fallacy without this much effort.

I almost had it, but again, a shadow fell over my work. "Remind me not to get on your bad side," the shadow said.

I gave that remark exactly the response it deserved. Hisagi Shuuhei (damn his eyes) took a quick step back, scuffing out one of the trailing footprints.

"Um..."

I sighed and put my glasses back on. "Hisagi-fukutaichou, I am at the absolute end of my patience. This had better not be a question you should already know the answer to."

"Sorry, sorry... I guess I'm making a habit of startling you." He laughed nervously, and I decided then and there that if this was some misguided attempt at flirting with me, I would kill him on the spot.

"What. Is. It?" Even it he wasn't flirting, I still might kill him if he had made me permanently lose what I had almost found.

He licked his lips nervously and looked around. Rangiku and someone else - ah, yes, Kira - were struggling with a particularly large corpse. Nemu had tagged the last person in the rear gallery and headed up and into one of the corridors leading to the back offices. "It's Kira."

I blinked a few times. It's Kira? _What_ was Kira? What was that supposed to mean? "He's helping Matsumoto-fukutaichou with one of the dead."

Hisagi had the gall to seem to be losing patience with _me_. "I know. But he was over here earlier talking to you, and-"

"He was? I don't... Ah, yes." I couldn't remember clearly, but I had the distinct impression that one of the people who had interrupted me was a blond. "Is there a problem?"

"It's just..." He was looking off over my shoulder, clearly perturbed by something. I turned, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Well, nothing out of the ordinary that hadn't already been accounted for. 'Ordinary' was not a label I would apply to this day. I turned back, and he shook his head as if trying to clear water from his ears.

"I'm worried about him," he said at last, but he still seemed distracted, as if only partially focused on the task at hand - I often saw a similar look on my captain's face when I was reviewing daily tasks with him. "About what people think about him, or... or the rest of us who served under..." He shrugged, sloppily leaving the thought incomplete. "Well, you know."

"As far as I know, which isn't much," I admitted this last with more bitterness than was perhaps seemly, "no fault has been found with Kira-fukutaichou's behavior."

At least, I hadn't heard anything from my captain, not even the sort of casual allusions and hints he slipped into conversation when there was something he thought I should know but couldn't tell me outright.

When my captain did this, however, it was always with good reason. This, however, was simply frustrating.

"If there's something I should know, Hisagi-fukutaichou, please tell me sooner rather than later. As you can see, I still have quite a lot of work to do."

He took a quick step back, holding up his hands. "He just hasn't seemed like himself of late, is all. And I've known the guy for years. He's been twitchy as hell."

Who _wouldn't_ have been, these past few days? I was about to say as much, but Hisagi took another step back, nearly treading in a patch of dried blood.

"And not just recently, either," he said, anticipating my remark. He looked back up at the galleries, his tongue darting out across his lips nervously. Rangiku and Kira were going up to attend to the back rooms. Another two hours, perhaps, and the dead could finally be laid to rest and I could go home and try to put all of this out of my mind. I heard a wail from outside. Someone had been recognized, no doubt.

"Look..." He looked everywhere but right at me, and raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to say this, but even before Aizen-taichou faked his death, things seemed... off. You know I was the one who had to drag Kira off to the brig after he and Hinamori..."

I nodded. I'd heard about that, probably only minutes after it happened. Gossip tore through my division at the speed of light, it seemed. When my captain had asked me my thoughts on the matter, he had nodded and smiled in a way that - much later, I am ashamed to say - had me wondering just how much he suspected, even back then.

I wondered what taichou's thoughts on Kira-fukutaichou were, or if he would even share them with me, if I asked. Of course, given my behavior this morning, it might be a while before I could do that.

"I'm curious. Did he say anything to you just now? Matsumoto scared him off before I could get anything out of him."

Oh, dear. That could make things problematic if the two of them were assigned to work in the back together. At least they were professional enough not to come to blows.

"Nothing I recall as unusual." Of course, I didn't recall _anything_ Kira had said, but I wasn't about to admit such. "What was it you think he was about to tell you?"

Hisagi paused, eyes cut to the side and mouth open as if to speak. It was as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

"He was in here before, you know." Each word seemed carefully chosen and even more carefully placed, like tiles in a _shogi_ match. "Back then."

I nodded. Some of the details of what happened here on that day were known to me. Not as many as I would like, but still... My captain had told me that Kira's presence here had been explained to his satisfaction, and while I knew I should accept that for what it was, I found myself waiting for Hisagi to continue.

It took him a moment. He continued to stare off over my shoulder, perhaps at something in the past, some moment when he might have noticed something, when he might have done something different that would have saved the people who had been slaughtered in this room.

I tried to picture this place, clean and well swept, painted screens shielding rather than shattered and bloodstained. This morning, when I had come in here, it had been with some idea of what I would find. For Hitsugaya-taichou, for Rangiku, there had been no such warning. As for Kira, he had apparently seen nothing wrong.

"I..." Again, Hisagi seemed to be finding his way. He swallowed, and I could hear it, even over Oomaeda's bluster, Yachiru's laughter, and the wailing from outside. "I wonder if he actually _saw_ anything, or if he was under one of Aizen-taichou's illusions. He was there under Ichimaru-taichou's orders, right?"

That was what I had heard. The opinions I'd heard voiced among the top officers in my division generally held that Kira could not be faulted for following orders. Unvoiced, but clear nonetheless, was a large measure of contempt for the man who had given those orders. It was also interesting to hear those same people praise Hisagi-fukutaichou for attempting to restrain his former captain when the man's treachery became known.

To hear them speak, you would have thought that everyone had _known_ Ichimaru was a traitor long before now.

How much had Kira known? Or suspected? Could it be considered the proper loyalty owed a superior officer to stay quiet in the face of such knowledge? What if such 'knowledge' was nothing but suspicion?

"Ise-fukutaichou?"

"My apologies..." I looked around, looked at the haggard, anxious man standing in front of me. No one had blamed him for being fooled by his captain. In the end, he had proved his loyalty to the Gotei 13. "I was distracted."

I wondered, as I had many times in the past few days, what others thought of me for standing by _my_ captain when he and Ukitake-taichou defied Yamamoto-soutaichou. It made no sense, but I followed him anyway, just as I obeyed when he told me to spare the _ryoka_ - no, _Sado-kun_, I corrected myself.

I obeyed because I trusted him, no matter how insane or obtuse he might seem at times, or how maddening his refusals to explain could be. I'd heard him referred to as a pervert, a layabout, a drunkard, a womanizer (yes, yes, much of this was true, but still...).

In the end, what right did I have to fault Kira, even in silence, for following his captain? For all that I found myself wanting to strangle or bludgeon him on a daily basis, I would follow mine to the ends of the earth.

How far would Kira have gone? We had all seen how far poor Hinamori had been willing to go for Aizen, and how she had suffered for it.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou?" I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for his loss, and for what he must have suffered. I did not even want to imagine what it would have been like... I cleared my throat to get his attention and looked him square in the eye.

He returned my gaze warily, and shifted his weight back as if preparing to flee. I raised a hand to calm him, to tell him that no, I wasn't about to snap at him or tell him to get to the point, but at that moment everyone froze.

A Hollow's shriek tore through the chamber. It was echoed by a scream from someone - who, I couldn't tell - as the twisted reiatsu crashed over us.

"It's in the back!" Soi Fong-taichou snapped. She was already at the door when we heard Matsumoto cry out and felt the sharp snap of her reiatsu as her shikai released.

I would have run back there, but Hisagi grabbed my arm. "Kira's back there with her," he said, but he didn't sound happy about it.

Oomaeda roared out in indignation, echoing what many of us thought as he demanded how something like that could have gotten in, how could it have been missed. It was a good question.

So was this one: What _else_ had been missed?

I thought back to this morning, to how long it had taken me to understand how I was hurting my captain, and the thought struck me hard enough to nearly knock the breath out of me.

What else had _I_ missed?


	3. Chapter 3

**Theme and Variations  
**

_by sophia prester and aishuu_

* * *

_Part Three: Largo (Izuru Kira)  
_

There is nothing harder than doing things for the first time. After you get by that fear, things come a little bit more easily, but you have to make the initial offering.

When I received the hell butterfly ordering me to help with the clean-up of the Central 46, I wondered if I should go. The butterflies had been sent out _en masse_ to the the vice captains, and it was likely the powers-that-be hadn't considered my tentative position in the Gotei 13. It was entirely possible I hadn't been meant to receive one, but in the confusion that followed since the departures of Gin-taichou and the others, my shame had been overlooked.

I sat on my futon, trying to decide if I should go and remind them I still existed. There was the unsettled matter of my escaping from jail, along with crossing blades with two other vice captains. I hadn't _meant_ to do anything wrong, but intentions are not what Soul Society judges. Even if I could gain Soul Society's forgiveness, I don't think I will ever forgive myself. My actions had resulted in injuring Hinamori, a girl whom I love dearly. I might just as well have stabbed her myself.

But wallowing in the "could haves" and "should haves" is unproductive, and the only way I could find out where I stood was to go out and face reality. I've faced Hollows with less fear than it took me to push my blankets back and get dressed in a clean uniform.

I'd ordered the one that I'd been wearing recently burned. Although it was still in good condition – remarkable when you considered what I'd been through over the past several days – to me it carried the stench of betrayal. I had turned my blade against another shinigami. I had defied the Gotei 13, following my captain without question. While in the past such loyalty might have been commendable, the captain I'd trusted...

No. I was still not ready to think about that.

It took me longer than usual to get dressed, since I was hyper-aware of the feel of the fabric against my skin. This uniform represented the Gotei 13, and I had once been so proud of that. But the organization was corrupt, and I wondered if I even wanted to fight to remain a member. Maybe Aizen had been right, in that we needed a real god.

My thoughts were starting to skate toward treacherous, and I bit the inside of my cheek, using the sharp sting of pain to remind myself that for the moment, I was still a vice captain. I would need to choose my path with a clear mind. Blind battle rage might work for Zaraki-taichou, but most of the best captains were the ones that kept control over their emotions.

It would be best to do nothing permanent. At least until I had a chance to think.

I finished dressing, sliding Wabisuke into his scabbard on my hip. Like a child needing reassurance, I had slept with my blade unsheathed beside me. I could feel the comforting throb of his presence, and that was what gave me the confidence I needed to step out of that first door. It was a triumph, of a sort. Every journey begins with a single step.

As I left my room, I noticed the unusual silence in the 3rd division. No matter the time of day, there's usually some activity going on – squads coming and going, cleaning or training. On rest days, there would be the boisterous sound of slightly-drunk men, which used to drive me crazy, but at that moment I would have paid a week's salary to hear.

I was all the other soldiers in the 3rd Division had. We were without a captain, which left me as the default leader. It would take a while for the missing captains to be replaced; those capable of achieving _bankai_ are few and far between. Chances were that I'd be the only leader for the foreseeable future.

I had never had any particular ambitions to become a captain. I had simply risen because there wasn't another option, not when the power thrums inside of your skull, a constant, nagging presence that refuses to be denied. I didn't have to become a shinigami, not like Renji who was escaping from poverty. I was from a noble family, and I could have lived my life away from the struggles of Gotei 13.

But I had the ability, and I believed with my whole heart that ability is meant to be used. I've never regretted that decision, not even after facing Hollows and losing friends. The work needed to be done, and I was one of the best to handle it.

Well, I've never regretted it until this week. Maybe if I had been more like Renji I wouldn't have been so easily duped.

I passed through the gates of the 3rd's compound, noting with disappointment that the guards that were usually stationed there weren't present. I hadn't had time to draw up a roster, and no one had the initiative to cover an obvious need. Maybe that would be the first thing I would do when I returned.

Assuming I came back.

Had Hinamori heard my pessimistic thoughts, she would had slapped me gently upside the head and told me to have more faith. But she was in a coma, and neither of our captains remained for us to support. All that was left was me, and I felt too brittle to accept the weight of hope.

I didn't really notice my surroundings as I walked into the Central 46. I remembered the last time I'd been there – and how I'd trusted Gin-taichou when he said that Hinamori would not be hurt. He was a liar, I thought, for the first time mentally lashing out at the man who had abandoned me after my usefulness had faded.

Liar, liar, _liar._

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and wondered if I was about to panic. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, and wanted to wander off and be sick in private. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep moving forward, to do what I should. I would survive this, I promised myself.

As the two onmitsukidō stepped aside from the front door of the Center 46, I looked down into hell.

It wasn't that, really. I'd had a real peek at hell twice, when souls whom I had performed soul burials on had been too impure to pass through the gates of Soul Society. But the hell I was looking at was one I helped create. All of the dead bodies might as well rise up and accuse me of being their murderer.

I would not lose control, I told myself. I would keep going, because breaking down would serve no one.

There was only one captain around – Soi Fong, captain of the 2nd. Considering her mastery of Soul Society's information infrastructure, it was natural for her to be put in charge of this investigation. The only better choice would have been Kurotsuchi-taichou, but he was still recovering from the invasion.

Soi Fong-taichou's always impressed me as being businesslike, a bit temperamental, and entirely deadly. She wasn't facing me directly, and I decided to ask her for direction on what she wanted me to do. Best get the possible rejection out of the way immediately, and figure out how deep my disgrace went.

"Excuse me, Soi Fong-taichou," I said respectfully.

Maybe I should have waited and not interrupted. She waved a hand at her subordinates before spinning around to address me. "Start helping the others removing the bodies. You are only to handle the ones that are marked with a green or yellow tag, and you are to take them directly to the plaza in the back. Do you understand?"

She treated me like a child, and I flinched a bit inside, though I maintained my outward composure. "Yes, Soi Fong-taichou," I replied, hesitating. She seemed so angry – I wanted to ask if she was offended by my presence, if I had done wrong in answering the summons. I tried to figure out how to phrase the question without appearing like I was looking for an excuse to avoid this work.

I didn't get the chance. Her lips thinned from effort to avoid telling me _exactly_ what she'd like me to do. However, she was a captain, and had better self-control than that. "If you cannot do the work, then leave," she said harshly. "There are too many people around here as it is." She glanced pointedly at members of the onmitsukidō.

I could take a hint. "I'm sorry, Soi Fong-taichou," I said, backing away from her. "I'll start immediately."

And that was that. She turned to one of her corps and started to talk again. She'd dismissed me from her mind, expecting I would follow her orders.

I tried to keep a strong facade, just in case anyone was watching, but I don't think I did it that well. I was tired of getting burned, tired of being abused, just plain _tired_ of being a shinigami.

Perhaps it would be better if I returned to the Academy. They always had a need for teachers, and I would do well among their ranks. I could continue to serve, but in a capacity where my recently-developed trust issues wouldn't affect my performance. It wasn't like the students would know of my shame, although rumor would probably dog my footsteps wherever I went. But at least students wouldn't rely on me to protect them.

I was about to indulge in a full-fledged wallow when a cheerful voice assaulted me. "Droopy-kun?"

I startled, looking down to see Kusajishi standing right in front of me. She had her head tilted up with her lips forming a small little "o" of curiosity.

"What do you want, Kusajishi-san?" I asked, using a curt tone.

"You're supposed to help us clean up," she said, and this time she was pouting like the five year old she resembled. I didn't buy it – no one got to be the vice captain of the 11th without some serious kick-ass skills. Some rookies thought that Kusajishi had earned the rank by merely riding on Zaraki's shoulders – literally – but Renji had told me a story or two that made me wary of her.

"I was about to," I said shortly, not liking her reprimand even though I deserved it.

"That's good, then!" she said with a cheerful smile. "I just wanted to ask you that if you decide to go bad again, to come to me first! I didn't get to fight at _all_." Leave it to a member of the 11th to be upset about missing out on a fight when Soul Society was in tatters. "I think we could have fun!" She giggled, and then flickered away so quickly that I couldn't see immediately where she went.

I wasn't sure if her words were supposed to be a threat, or some kind of bizarre 11th Division compliment. I didn't want to fight anyone; I just wanted to get on with my job.

The next several hours were spent doing drudge work. Normally, I would have been more empathetic, since I was removing the bodies of the former leaders of Soul Society, but I was feeling emotionally burned out. There's only so many shocks a person can take before they shut down, and I was on the verge of that.

It was easier not to think of them as human, easier to ignore the repercussions these deaths would have. I was tired of thinking things through. It was easier to just follow orders. Never mind that's what got me into this situation in the first place.

I had just finished removing my fifth corpse when someone actually approached me. I almost jumped out of my skin when Hisagi appeared. "Yo, Kira," Hisagi said. "Glad to see you made it."

"You're probably the only one," I was unable to stop from muttering under my breath bitterly. "Hello, Hisagi-san."

There was the slightest of hesitations. "I was kind of wondering, you know. If you'd be here." His hand reached over and clapped me on the shoulder, with his usual air of friendliness completely intact. "How are you holding up, anyhow?"

It occurred to me that he had gone through the same thing I had, being betrayed by his captain. Of course, Tousen wasn't nearly the bastard Gin-taichou was – no one had seen _his_ betrayal coming. I wondered if that made things better or worse, from Hisagi's perspective. Not that it really mattered – to a dead man, it didn't matter if he was hung or beheaded, he was still dead.

"About as well as can be expected. You?"

A faint smile formed on his face, and I realized no matter what he said, he was coping better than I. "About the same," he replied, and he glanced over at the other shinigami, to where Matsumoto and Iba were talking together, and shook his head. "They have no idea what it's like, do they?"

"No," I practically whispered, although the question had probably been meant as rhetorical. "But maybe it's better that way."

Hisagi didn't like what I was saying. "I'm not sure what you mean, Kira."

"Would you want them to know what it's like to fail so miserably?"

Hisagi sighed, and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "We did what we could. You know that, I know that. You can't listen to what anyone else says," he continued, and then a second later his thoughts caught up with his words. "Um, not that anyone's saying anything. I meant, _if_ they were saying anything."

I winced involuntarily. Hisagi was trying to be kind, although I didn't deserve it. "I can imagine," I said, glancing over to where Matsumoto was dragging off a body nearly as large as she was.

If there was anyone who had a right to resent me, it was her. I had stopped Matsumoto, and I wondered how things would have turned out if she hadn't been delayed by my stupidity.

"I can't blame them - it's not like I didn't..." _totally betray them all,_ I concluded mentally, but instinct told me that Hisagi would be offended if I kept insulting myself. He'd always been a good mentor, looking out for those of us who looked up to him.

He waited for a long moment for me to finish – Hisagi's always been polite, too, no matter what he dressed like – before prodding me. "Didn't what, Kira?"

"Didn't make mistakes," I finished, knowing that was close enough to the truth to pass inspection. I couldn't tell him about my despair, about the feeling I had of just wanting to disappear, or have someone demand I atone for my mistakes with my life. I wanted to be punished, but if I asked for that, I was implicating Hisagi himself. That wouldn't be fair to him.

He laughed bitterly, a harsh sound that sounded wrong coming from him. "No. Neither of us did. We were just duped."

"And ignorance is an excuse? I should have asked Gin-taichou what we were doing, not just obediently followed like a dog!" I was on the verge of yelling, which wasn't what I wanted to be doing. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that a vice captain of the Gotei 13 needed to keep their composure. "I was too trusting," I finished in a conversational tone, like I hadn't been about to have a complete nervous meltdown.

Hisagi tossed his hands in the air, obviously frustrated at my self-recrimination. "You're supposed to be able to trust your captain. If you can't trust your captain..." His hands fell to his sides as he realized exactly what my dilemma was. "It's a hell of a thing, Kira. I still can't believe they're gone."

Trust Hisagi to hit the nail on the head. I covered my face, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Do you wish they'd taken you with them?"

I was confessing my innermost secret. I wasn't angry at Gin-taichou just for what had happened to Hinamori. I was angry at him because he hadn't taken me with him. There is nothing worse for a vice captain than for their captain finding them unworthy. I would have followed Gin-taichou to Hueco Mundo itself, because my job was to watch his back.

Hisagi took a deep breath, and I waited for his judgment to fall. If anyone had the right to punish me, it was him, because he'd actually come out of the whole Aizen catastrophe without shaming his name. He leaned in closer, and I waited for him to pronounce me a traitor to Soul Society.

"Might want to be careful who you say that to," he said to me, and the warning shocked me back to myself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean, I mean-" I started to stammer, realizing belatedly that he didn't deserve to hear that. Of course I had meant it, but I hadn't really... my head hurt, and I wished things could go back to the way they were, with me following the lead of Gin-taichou, and knowing someone else had to make the tough decisions. I started to shake, and I lost control of myself, blinking as I found myself kneeling. The room suddenly seemed very, very cold.

Hisagi leaned down next to me, and put his face close to mine. "You have got to hold it together, especially now, especially where everyone can see you," he said quickly, in a tone low enough that only I could hear. "C'mon Kira... you can do this. I know what it's like, I know how fucking _hard_ it is, how fucking miserable, how much you just want to pack it all in -'cause you do, don't you?"

He was voicing my thoughts perfectly, sorting through the morass of mixed emotions with his usual insight. He crouched down in front of me, and caught my eyes with his own. "It's going to be okay, though. I'll help you, just like you helped me back in the Academy. You remember that, don't you?"

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I stared into his eyes, seeing the compassion I didn't deserve reflecting back at me. I remembered that day he was talking of, the one where he'd lost two of his classmates and I'd been thrown into battle against a Hollow that had killed my senpai.

I had fought back then. I'd been the last to return to the battle, but I _had_ turned back, disobeying an order because it had been the right thing to do. I had once had the courage to make the tough decisions on my own... but Hisagi reminded me there were other people I could look to. Him. Renji. Hinamori, when she recovered... _and I had to believe she would._

He touched the back of my neck lightly, the feel of his fingers more solid than the nebulous memory of Gin-taichou. "Kira?" he said simply.

"Yes, senpai?" I took a deep breath, and let my hands fall to my sides. "Thank you, Hisagi-san," I said, before standing. "You're right."

I helped him to his feet, and he gave me a half-smile in return. "Course I'm right," he said, but his playful mood faded. "Everything's going to work out for the best. It may not seem like it, but it will. Trust me."

I felt my first real smile since the whole mess had happened spread across my face. "I always have," I said. I meant more than agreeing with his statement – I was reaffirming my faith in my fellow shinigami, those that served the Soul Society to the best of their abilities.

Just because Gin-taichou had turned his back on Soul Society didn't mean the people within it were worthless. There were still people I wanted to protect. Maybe I was better off without a captain that could betray us so badly.

Of course, the moment was too good to last. Moments later, Matsumoto appeared, and from her rather sharp tone of voice as she greeted me, I could tell she didn't want me around. I made a hasty excuse about needing to see Ise, and took off without looking back.

Not to be proved a liar, I went over to Ise Nanao, who was in the middle of examining one of the bodies. "Excuse me, Ise-san?" I asked softly, hoping not to startle her.

"You're in my light. What is it?" Ise asked, and she didn't even bother to look at me.

I stepped away, hoping to rectify my mistake. It would have been easier to leave right then, but I wouldn't allow myself not to at least _try._ Unlike Matsumoto, Ise had nothing against me personally. "I was wondering if you needed anything?"

A frown sprang to life on her face, and I realized I should have just left. "No," she said curtly. "I don't need any help. I'm in the middle of something, and need to finish it."

"Oh, um... I'm sorry," I said shakily. I gave her a slight bow of apology – which she didn't notice – and turned on my heel to leave.

"Honestly, how am I expected to get anything done?" she murmured to herself, although not so softly I couldn't hear. That was probably deliberate, a way to make sure I knew exactly what she thought of me.

I had known that what I had done was unforgivable. Ise was correct to keep her distance, because the taint of dishonor can carry to other shinigami. I had been an idiot to come here, an idiot to think that I was still _needed._ Gin-taichou had seen what was in me, and judged me disposable.

I glanced over at Hisagi, now joking with Matsumoto, and tried not to feel left out. It would be best if I got to work. If I kept myself busy, I could pretend things were all right, and that Hisagi was right. Things were going to work out the way they needed to.

I dragged another body out, the process making my brain comfortably numb. My sense of smell had deserted me hours before. Most of the bodies had been removed, and the end of our task was in sight. I knelt down beside another victim, looking up with surprise as Matsumoto came within arm's reach. She nodded at me in a non-hostile fashion, collected a body, and left.

The experience threw me for yet another loop, like I didn't already have enough to deal with. There's no man in Soul Society that can remain completely oblivious to Matsumoto. She's beautiful and fun, and the way she dresses draws the eye. When I'd first started out in the 5th, I'd entertained a fantasy or two about eventually working with her. When I moved over to the 3rd, though, I'd dashed any hope of doing that, since Gin-taichou made it quite clear that Matsumoto was a valued "friend" of his.

The last couple days reinforced the belief that she's also highly qualified for her position. Women have to work twice as hard to advance within the divisions, which means they're twice as competent. While rumor had it she liked to party, the skills she had displayed with her sword indicated she also knew how to work.

Having her beside me was confusing. I wondered if Hisagi had goaded her to approach me, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. No one – not even Ichimaru Gin – could make Matsumoto do anything. That's what made her truly special.

Strange, I thought, before returning my attention to what I had been doing. I knelt before the body of the obese man, staring down without really seeing him as a person. Moving him was going to be a trick, and it was going to be messy. At this point in the decomposition process, nasty things happened when the corpse was shifted.

"Need a bit of help?" a voice asked, and I jerked as I realized that Matsumoto had actually returned to work beside me again.

I agreed, feeling my tongue tie in knots even as I accepted. I wondered what she wanted with me.

We managed to remove the dead aide, and then she suggested we get something to drink. I agreed again, following along like her lapdog. I noticed Iba give me a thumbs-up on the way, obviously thinking that I was about to get to first base.

Hardly. All I could think about was the fact she had known Gin-taichou. Maybe she could let me know where I had failed. Broaching the subject was delicate, and she looked affronted when I mentioned I'd heard the stories about them.

"I didn't think you were the type to dig up old gossip, Kira," she said. I wondered if she was going to stalk off in annoyance, and I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

"I just... I wanted to know what he was like, before," I told her.

Her eyes softened. "He was Gin," she told me. "He's never been any more or any less than himself." She paused for a long moment to collect her thoughts, and then started to tell me their history. "We met in Rukongai, back when we were both children. He saved my life – I hadn't understood why I was so thirsty, and no one was going out of their way to help a starving brat," she said with an ironic smile. "Except Gin."

I had never known Gin-taichou to do anything for the sake of kindness. He had always had ulterior motives, but as Matsumoto talked about her childhood, and my captain, I realized that something had happened to change him.

Maybe that something was Aizen.

It would be comfortable to believe that Aizen's illusions had swayed my captain. It would be comfortable, but it wouldn't be accurate, since Matsumoto painted a picture of a man who'd always known what he wanted.

Unfortunately, what he wanted wasn't the best for Soul Society. I could see the pain in her face as she talked about her early days in the Gotei 13, and how she had valued their friendship. Looking at her made me realize Gin-taichou had really been an idiot – I couldn't tell if they had been lovers or not, but that didn't matter. Only an idiot would have rejected having a woman like Matsumoto in his life.

I could have listened to her forever, but Soi Fong noticed our preoccupation, and sent Omaeda to put me back to work. Soi Fong was still annoyed at me, and I decided it would be best to just agree. To my surprise, Matsumoto accepted my request for help. I was starting to relax in her presence, to feel that bond of camaraderie that made the Gotei 13 worthwhile.

We headed toward the back rooms, which had been analyzed by Nemu earlier. It wasn't a surprise no one had done the actual cleaning yet, since there had been enough death in the main chamber. Something felt off about being here, like invading a holy sanctuary.

Matsumoto noticed my unease. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm just being cautious," I told her.

"What are you so afraid of?" she asked.

It was a question I'd been dreading even since Gin-taichou had left, but she deserved the truth. "Myself," I whispered.

She started to open the door. I wished I could see her expression, to see if she was ready to condemn me for my weakness. "Really, Kira-" she started to say, but then stopped. Her entire demeanor shifted, and suddenly I wasn't her focus, nor was she mine.

We both felt it at the same time, a sickening reitsu that shouldn't have been in Seireitei, much less the Central 46. There was a Hollow here, and it meant to attack.

We were both vice captains, though, and our shock didn't keep us from reacting with split-second timing. "Growl, Haineko!" Matsumoto called even as she unsheathed her blade, and Haineko dissolved into the ash which had defeated me.

She had point, and I fell back a step, drawing Wabisuke and standing a half-foot behind her in support. I didn't summon my shikai, though, because I didn't want to get in her way. It would be an insult to her if I butted in, implying that she couldn't handle the battle on her own.

Matsumoto stood there, and her shikai started to slash the Hollow. Her pale eyes were narrowed as she willed her weapon to work. Cuts – but no blood – started to appear on the thing's thin, eel-like form. The thing shrieked, an inhuman sound that made me want to cover my ears. I had faced plenty of Hollows in my time with the Gotei 13, but I hoped Matsumoto would work faster.

There was something wrong about this Hollow, something that went beyond the normal revulsion I felt from being in the presence of a corrupted soul. I was too experienced to just freeze in horror, but I couldn't help notice something very, very odd.

The Hollow's mask was cracked.

It was an unwritten rule never to look at a Hollow's face for fear of seeing what lay behind it. My breath caught, but I didn't have time look away, before Matsumoto yelled something, sending Haineko's fury right at that weakness.

Blood spurted along the crack in the mask, and the Hollow let out one more scream, one that almost sounded human. Then it shuddered, fell to the floor with a sickening plop, and lay there until the twitching stopped. Had we been in the mortal realm, it would have dissolve, but in Soul Society, it had a more substantial existence.

I looked at Matsumoto, who was regathering her blade. She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a flippant gesture, but her eyes were still dangerous. "Looks like Aizen decided to leave a farewell present," she said. "How thoughtful. Too bad we can't return it to him."

If the Hollow had been intended as a threat from Aizen, a warning that he could still haunt us even without actually being present, it had the opposite effect on me. The surge of adrenalin, the sudden reminder that Gin's leaving hadn't been the end of danger, had fortified my resolve.

At that moment, I made the mental commitment to start training for _bankai._ The 3rd wasn't going to need a new captain, because I was going to step into that position. I would lead my division as it should be led. I would be strong, stronger than Gin ever had been, because I wouldn't give into temptation to put my own power above the needs of my people.

The revelation both lifted the weight of guilt from my shoulders, while adding the pressure of responsibility. I felt changed, forged by new purpose. I would walk this road, I promised myself. I would walk the path to captaincy without fear. I had done nothing wrong believing in my captain – that was as it should be.

It was Gin who was the traitor.

I was almost surprised when Matsumoto spoke, amazed that she hadn't realized the transformation I had just undergone. "Are you alright?" Matsumoto asked, and her eyes were beautiful with their concern for me.

"No," I replied, "but I will be."

I am the wielder of Wabisuke, and it's others who end up on their knees before me to apologize, not the other way around. One day, I would make Gin apologize for what he had done to Soul Society, Hinamori, and Matsumoto... and to me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Theme and Variations  
**

_by sophia prester and aishuu_

* * *

_Part Four: Scherzo (Hisagi Shuuhei) _

No one said anything as I left division headquarters. As for me, I didn't tell them where I was going. No one had any idea of the words that were playing over and over and over in my mind.

_It's all going to work out. Everything is going to work out in the end. It's going to. It has to._

The words fell into an the rhythm of my steps as I deliberately did _not_ run to Central 46.

_It's all going to work out._

A couple of days ago, I started to wonder if it was one of those things, where maybe, if I repeated it just enough, I might actually of start to believe it. Of course, the second I started believing was the same second I would get slammed with the memory of how the past week has been nothing but disaster upon disaster. So, instead of believing that everything is going to work out, I started thinking of all the ways things could fall down like a house of cards.

It all went downhill from there.

I thought about all the other things that went wrong (Kanisawa, Aoga...) and I kept telling myself to _stop_ it, it never should've happened, except it did-and who's to say what might get all fouled up _this_ time around and what I'll lose because of it?

And that? _That's_ what the inside of my brain has been like ever since Tousen-taichou left. The words help, I suppose, even if they don't really solve anything.

It's exhausting, spending every waking minute waiting for the axe to fall. Just this morning, when the hell butterfly arrived with orders to report to the Central 46 with all the other vice-captains, I think I stopped breathing for a minute. That's not a figure of speech-I honestly felt my throat squeeze itself shut and a rib-crunching weight settle on my chest.

For days, I've been thinking about a way to get in there and see what was left behind, but this? To find out like this, with no time to prepare? I remained calm, but scenario after scenario was pushing to the forefront of my mind. It seemed impossible that no one else could see it.

Like I said, though, no one said anything as I left division headquarters. My third and fourth seats-no one thought twice about treating me as temporary captain of the Ninth-bowed out of habit and respect as I passed, with no anxious or nervous glances. If anything, they seemed less anxious the instant they saw me.

I wonder if they have any idea how horrifying I find their trust in me. If they know what it does to me. All I can do is acknowledge their respect with a quick nod and keep on moving. It works.

If there's any good that came of the massive screw-up during that training exercise, it's that the damage to the right side of my face has made it easy to keep an even expression.

_I can do this. I can do this. I will do what I have to. It's all going to work out._

It doesn't matter how hard the next few days or weeks might be: I am a good soldier. I know right from wrong. I am unshaken. I can never admit this to anyone, but if I let myself hear these words in my _taichou's_ voice, they're a lot easier to believe.

Still, when I walked back into the main chamber and saw Ise Nanao kneeling in the middle of the floor surrounded by hundreds of glowing yellow specks lighting the place up like an _obon_ festival, it was my heart that decided to stop next.

I recognized the kidou, of course. Arrow's Flight. I knew the pattern it made. I knew what the marks meant. I'd used it often enough myself to track the results of sparring matches, and I'd seen my captain's second release often enough to recognize the patterns. Trust Ise, though, to use it like this. The glowing yellow marks each neatly covered a sword mark in a table, in a chair, in a body. The pattern was all too familiar.

It didn't take any imagination at all for me to see Suzumushi's blades still lodged in their targets. I rested my hand on Kazeshini's hilt, could hear the anxious hissing. I told her to stay quiet. Everything was going to be okay.

Nanao had no idea I was there. Her "Oh, I've got you now," wasn't one of those things you meant for others to hear.

But I heard it.

And I knew that she knew.

My first instinct was to turn around and walk out of there (calmly and quietly-no one would say a word, right?), to get away from those yellow marks and their damning truth:

Soul Society's illustrious leaders and judges had been cut down in one moment by the man who had done nothing but teach me about justice since the day we met-the man who had taken the place of the fallen captain who had inspired me to make something of my life. The captain who...

My jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might shatter. I _needed_ to get out of there. Right away. But I couldn't. I had to be the strong one. I had work to do.

Everyone in the Gotei 13 now knew me as the one who stood there with a sword at his captain's throat. The one who didn't break down even though he was so cruelly betrayed. The one who always, _always_ stayed strong when his friends fell or failed.

I couldn't lose that. Not now, of all times.

So I stood my ground; I stayed where I was. And I tossed a pebble into the pond to see what kind of ripples I stirred up.

"Got who?" I was surprised at how steady my voice was.

Ise actually _eep!_ed in surprise. I swear, it almost looked like she levitated for a second.

I suppose it's fair to say that everyone was on edge at the moment, but damn... I didn't know what to make of that until she settled herself and came as close as she ever did to making small talk.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou!" She adjusted her glasses, but the glimpse I got of her eyes before they slid back into place betrayed nothing unfriendly. I may have started breathing again. "You're here awfully early."

"Not that early. Just a couple of hours. Hour and a half, maybe." That should be no surprise, right? I'd long had a reputation for being conscientious. And who would blame me for wanting to see for myself what my captain had done? The question was, how long had _she_ been here? And wait... was that Kurotsuchi Nemu up there in the gallery? Not to mention the onmitsukidou-they were standing around with the attitude of people who had been doing so long enough to be getting good and tired of it. I recognized one or two of them, but still...

So much for my brilliant idea of getting a few moments here alone, to see things for myself, with no one else around to bother me.

I was bothered enough as it was, thank you.

I looked around at the fading yellow marks, the marks of my captain's shikai. I wondered what colors the others' would be, wondered if I could still see faint traces of their presence from where Nanao had deployed her kidou.

What had she seen? What was she thinking? What had she found? She was so silent. So unreadable. She always had been, her eyes shielded by those glasses, her mouth always set in a slight frown.

For what felt like a very long time, she didn't move from her spot. All she did was study the marks in the same way I did. I stole one glance down at her, and wondered at the sadness on her face. She looked up quickly, eyes catching mine over the top of her glasses, and her frown becoming something more pinched, not so resolute. She took a breath as if to say something, looked away for a bare second, then seemed to gather her resolve. I decided that I liked her better when I thought she was unreadable.

_Everything is going to be okay_, I told myself, and when at last she said "I'm sorry," I had to look away. I was tired of sympathy.

"I'll be okay." I wasn't, though. I was there, the evidence of what had happened was all around me-all over the damned place-and I had no idea what to do next. I couldn't figure it out.

I was a good leader, but then, I'd always had good men to lead me. And they weren't here now.

And so I babbled as I watched Nemu move methodically from body to body. "I just thought I'd come here and, I don't know... do something? It's not as if I have anything else going on at the moment." Obviously.

I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out just what Nemu was doing. "So... I guess I'm not the only one who's early. You and Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou got here before I did. What are you two doing?"

Nanao told me. In exhaustive detail. She'd identified Tousen-taichou's shikai, but nothing else yet. She and Nemu were examining the bodies, checking for any signs of interference.

Fair enough.

I found my gaze drawn to the onmitsukidou standing guard around the room. One of the ones I knew nodded at me just as Nanao explained (complained, really-it was almost funny) in a low voice how they had trampled and contaminated so much evidence.

But not all, I thought as the last yellow mark faded. Or maybe it was just one of those... whaddyacallem? Afterimages?

Anyhow, other than the sword cuts themselves, the evidence of who had placed them was gone. For now.

"Have you found anything?" I was starting to wish I hadn't come here. "Anything besides, well, that," I said, nodding towards what was left of Tousen-taichou's work.

Of course, not coming would have been worse, in the end.

I could do this, I told myself. No, that wasn't right.

I _had_ to do this.

Nanao looked around again, frowning at the scene. I wondered why the sights and the smells didn't seem to bother her. Maybe she'd been here long enough that the impact had faded.

Me, I'd seen worse.

"Other than what you saw, nothing conclusive," she said. I closed my eyes and nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Well, some evidence that they were hypnotized. I just wish I knew more about the traitors' usual fighting styles when not using their shikai or bankai."

Skin pulled against scar as I tried not to wince at the word _traitors_.

I was beginning to hate that word, beginning to hate the way people avoided it when they were around me. Or how they'd always apologize afterwards. Stammering, flushing, not knowing what to do. Not knowing what _I_ wanted to say to them every time I heard it. The only ones who seemed to be able to meet my eye these days were Komamura and Iba. Well, I _think_ Iba did. Damned hard to tell with those sunglasses, though.

"Tousen-taichou, he... um..." I echoed a move I had seen often enough that I had adopted it as one of my own long ago. "If it was just an ordinary Hollow and no challenge. I mean, our styles all vary depending on what we're facing, and how it fights back. Right?"

It was now Nanao's turn to flinch. I almost missed it, and a cold glare followed hard on its heels.

"These people didn't fight back, Hisagi-fukutaichou." She flung one hand out towards the judges sitting in their seats of execution. "They never had the chance. Tell me-where is the justice in that?"

My hand tightened even more on the hilt of my sword. Kazeshini's sibilant mutterings echoed my own thoughts. Justice? What the hell did she know? What gave her the right to-

I almost said something incredibly stupid but the mottled flush faded from her cheeks and I could hardly believe it when I heard a soft "I'm sorry."

Two apologies from her in one day. It was some kind of miracle.

She really didn't know anything, did she? I looked over at one of the dead men. One had been felled by a slash that rose up across his chest to slice an artery in his neck. The marks of the blood spray on the wall behind him and all over the person slumped next to him traced the path of his fall. I saw it happening, the blood arcing up as he fell, the surprise on his face as an unseen, unexpected strike took his life.

"That was thoughtless," she said.

"Yes. It was." I shouldn't have said it, but something needed to be said. It was too quiet otherwise. "Still, I guess it's better than having people just shut up and stare at the ceiling the minute you walk into the room."

Nanao went on apologizing for a moment or two, but I tuned it out. I didn't need any apologies-or any sympathy-but I wasn't about to explain that. Eventually, her voice trailed off as she got caught back up in her observations. I looked around a bit more, wondering how this all looked to her, or to Nemu.

"So, what are you thinking now, Ise-fukutaichou?"

She seemed surprised I was still there, as if I was supposed to simply vanish once she took her mind off of me. In a way, it was nice to know that she thought so little of me. Freeing, really.

"That I have work to do. If you wouldn't mind-"

Again, I was expected to just vanish while she got ready to invoke Arrow's flight one more time.

"Why?" It was loud enough that several of the onmitsukidou turned sharply in our direction.

As I expected, Nanao stopped just as she was forming the first hand seal for the kidou. She barely even turned to look up at me "Why what?" she snapped.

"Why do this? It's not going to bring them back. It's not going to tell you anything we don't already know-that they're dead and that Aizen-taichou and the others killed them! Why can't we just..." I took a breath, but never took my eyes off her hand. It remained still as she listened incredulously to my rant. "... just bury them with honor and be done with it? What good is all this cataloging and..."

By then, she had probably written me off as a lunatic. Just as well. I don't think I could have kept up that rant much longer. Even a short outburst felt very much unlike me. Alien. Unnatural.

Figuring I'd created a good enough excuse for a quick exit. I took off my zanpakutou-careful not to do anything resembling any kind of attack while surrounded by Soi Fong's people-then turned my back on her and walked off.

"Oh, hell with it. I'm going to put her away so I can work," I called out. It was obvious that I had to go collect myself. "That's what I came here for, right?"

Mostly.

I handed Kazeshini to the onmitsukidou who'd nodded to me as I'd come in.

"Put her somewhere safe," I told him. He hesitated before taking her-it wasn't often a shinigami passed along his zanpakutou to someone else-but almost instantly, understanding dawned and he leaned my sword in a shadowy corner, deftly blocking it from sight with his body.

He left me in peace as I walked a little further down (but not too far down) the hallway. I leaned my forehead against the wall and for a moment or two just concentrated on breathing.

I had been even less prepared than I thought to go in there. All my thoughts of sneaking in now seemed so, so stupid. How could I have thought I could go in there, see the aftermath of what had happened, and _not_ see how my captain cut down twenty people in one stroke?

How could I not have known this wasn't just a cleanup and removal of the 'honored dead' but an investigation? I pressed a fist hard against my stomach, hoping it would do something to stop the churning and twisting. It didn't.

I was a good soldier, though. A loyal one. One who would always stand by the truth and what was right no matter what else was going down around him. It's who I am. It's who I've trained myself to be since I was a child.

I was going to go out there and do what I needed to do.

One more deep breath, and I felt my stomach settle. The scars on my face stopped pulling at my skin.

When I walked back out into the main chamber, I was the Hisagi everyone recognized. This time when I saw how the main floor had been scuffed and trampled, I shook my head and nearly laughed at the thought of how Nanao must have reacted when she saw _that_.

The chamber was lit up with kidou again. Not the bright yellow of before-these lights weren't as bright, and there weren't as many of them. About six out in the open, and another two that Nanao couldn't see, back behind the furthest benches.

"With that few marks, I'm guessing Aizen-taichou," I said casually, pointing out that Aizen wasn't the kind of guy who liked to get his own hands dirty.

I walked past one of the fallen. The aide had topped face-first onto the floor. Only a faint point of violet glowing beneath a fold of fabric hinted at the slash that cut straight up across her torso. The next body, a few feet away from the first, had a line of violet crossing right under his ribs. A kogatana lay on the ground near his feet. Nanao was busy examining a third victim, so I didn't even think before bending over to pick it up.

"Wait! Don't touch that!"

I'm not sure why I didn't go straight through the ceiling. She's sharp. Really sharp. I had no idea she could even see me.

"It's just a kogatana," I said stupidly, holding the small knife out to her by its hilt in violation of every safety and courtesy rule I'd ever had drilled into me. Two onmitsukidou took a sudden interest in the proceedings, so I fumbled the knife so I was holding it up by its blade. It was filthy, but that could easily be explained by being found in a pool of blood.

"And now it has your reiatsu imprinted _all_ over it." Oh, she was not happy with me. Not happy at all.

"It's mine," I told her. The less I said the better, but I couldn't stop myself from going on as if explaining a simple truth to an idiot. "It fell out of my scabbard. The fittings are worn."

The red of anger faded unevenly, leaving her looking patchy and pale. "I'm sorry. It's been, well, it hasn't been a very good morning..." She sounded exhausted. Looked it, too. Glasses didn't do much to hide the gray smudges under her eyes.

"But if you find anything else, even if it seems unimportant-"

Something she might have overlooked, perhaps.

"I know, I know. Don't touch." I laughed as I asked her what I should do next, but my laughter didn't sound right, even to me. I'd nearly made a horrible mistake.

She was tired, though. Very tired, and what she'd seen here was taking its toll on her. She'd been paying too-close attention to all of the mangled, rotting remains of Central 46 and not close enough attention to other things.

Things like whether or not I had my kogatana attached to my scabbard when I walked in here today.

I tucked the knife into the folds of my belt. I'd clean it when I got back to the Ninth. A few days later, it would slip out of my scabbard when I was crossing some rough terrain or fording a river or walking near a ravine. The fittings were worn. Losing it was inevitable. I would gripe about it to a couple of people and then replace it.

I'd avoided one disaster, and now, I thought as I walked past the bodies with the familiar violet glow-the one that would have been far too easy for Nanao to match to a similar glow if I'd still had Kazeshini with me-I had to circumvent another.

"Soi Fong-taichou?"

I got the usual friendly reception from her, in the form of a "What?"

Oomaeda was also standing there, which worked just fine for my purposes. He'd been friendly enough to me in his own way over the years (and his sister, well, I wouldn't mind getting to know her a little better if you know what I mean) even though he'd also made it clear that his friendship was a great act of kindness, extended to a Rukongai gutter-rat from the eldest son of a noble family.

"Ise Nanao sent me to speak to you," I said, being sure never to take my gaze from the elaborately robed body on the dais behind her. "She said you were in charge of the removal of the... Huh."

"Yes, yes. What is it, Hisagi-fukutaichou? Is there a problem?" What she didn't say was that there had better not be one.

"No..." I let my voice trail off. There _was_ a problem, and it had to be taken care of before Nanao decided to cast Arrow's Flight again. "It's just that I thought you would have taken the chief judge out of here first. That's who that is, right?" I said, nodding at the elaborate saffron haori. The two men sitting (well, slumped) next to him wore the same shade of gold in a simpler cut and without the embroidery.

Oomaeda's eyes went wide. Soi Fong merely seemed puzzled for a moment before she, too, realized the implied dishonor of leaving Soul Society's chief justice sitting there with his face resting in a pool of his own dried blood.

Me? I had no problem with it at all.

"Taichou, this isn't right." Oomaeda was in full bluster, and if I knew the man as well as I thought I did, before long he'd be acting as if he was the one who'd noticed the slight in the first place. That was fine with me. Let everyone remember him as the one who suggested that we remove the bodies of the judges before any lesser souls were carried out to be attended to by the Fourth Division.

Oomaeda argued at length, and I suspected Soi Fong wound up agreeing with him more to shut him up than anything else. It didn't matter. What mattered is that she ordered Nanao and Nemu to tag the other three judges they hadn't already examined so we could get them out of there.

Soi Fong herself insisted on carrying out the chief justice, once a cursory examination had been done. It was almost funny, given that he was twice her size. Oomaeda picked up the smaller of the justice's two companions, leaving me with the one who'd enjoyed his food too much. I was just glad that Aizen-taichou's blade had slit the man's throat and not his belly-the smell was bad enough as it was. The man was nearly decapitated though, so I wound up carrying him almost like an infant, cradling the back of his head in my hand. It was more courtesy than he deserved.

The other three judges were removed before Nanao's kidou could cause their slit throats to glow something other than violet. Or before she pulled up whatever Gin's color was and happened to notice that none of the six judges had shown any kind of glow at all. She might have missed it, but I didn't want to count on that kind of luck.

Getting my zanpakutou out of the room before she cast that last round of kidou was as much luck as I dared hope for that day. If she'd done it just a few seconds earlier, she'd have seen it glowing like a torch by my side.

I barely made it back in the chamber before I bent over, hands braced against my knees as I broke out in a cold sweat. Iba walked over and made a comment about how the smell kinda got to you, right? He clapped me on the shoulder and told me it was going to be okay.

The exact same words I'd been saying to myself for the past several days.

Before he moved on to get his orders and get to work, I reached up and patted his hand roughly. The sort of gesture you'd use to let a buddy know that you were okay, really.

I wasn't though. I was so far from okay right then I couldn't see it. I could remember the faces of every single person I'd struck down. There weren't many. Aizen killed the judges himself. Gin had been remarkably efficient. Tousen-taichou's shikai had scythed through so many of them at once...

I straightened up though my knees still felt a little too loose. We'd done what we had to do. These so-called _just_ men and women got everything they deserved.

Still, that didn't keep me from feeling like a total shit for having to lie to Iba.

One by one, the others arrived. There were gasps of horror, hisses of disgust. A stifled cry from Kotetsu. A muttered oath from Sasakibe. That sort of thing.

Yachiru, of course, started chattering wildly to everyone just as if she were at a party. That... just wasn't right. Zaraki had a lot to answer for, and defeating my captain was the least of it.

At least Yachiru was efficient in getting the bodies out, I suppose. Iba and I looked at each other, shaking our heads in disbelief as she picked up and carried out one of the heftier aides as if he were a doll.

I did my share of the work, of course. I looked up from time to time to see if anyone was entering the back rooms. So far, no one was. It would happen eventually, though.

Kira showed up. To be honest, I was a little surprised to see him here. So were a few others, judging from the expressions I saw. Only Yachiru made a point of going out of her way to talk to him, but it didn't look like it helped any. Poor guy.

It wasn't surprising to find Iba and myself pacing each other, making sure the other stayed honest in his work. We weren't quite up to the gallows humor we might have indulged in, but as he passed me on his way in from the courtyard, he mouthed _drinks later?_

I nodded, then nearly dropped the body I was carrying. Iba there in a second, squatting down to try to look me in the eye as I hunched over again, trying not to retch.

"Y'okay, buddy?"

"Yeah... fine..." I shook my head, and that was enough to tell me that straightening up again wasn't a good idea just yet. "Just keeps on getting to me, you know?"

He nodded, looking around. Those stupid sunglasses of his made it hard to read his expression. "Yeah. I know." He stood up. "I'm tryin' not to think about how my old captain was in here. It ain't working. I looked for him, but I think someone else already took him outside. Not sure if I'm grateful or not."

Iba stretched, rolling out the kinks in his shoulders. "Whatta fucking waste," he said, looking around as if still trying to find someone. "He was a good guy, y'know?"

I couldn't answer that. "I'll be fine," I said at last (_everything is going to work out in the end_) because now was not the time to say that the entire group was corrupt through and through.

Iba had lost his old captain, but long before that, Soul Society had lost eight good men and women-including the man to whom I owed everything-thanks to the people in this room. Not just the people, I told myself again. The entire system.

Iba pulled a grimace, as if realizing he'd said something stupid. "Listen, I'm real sorry about what happened with Tousen."

I noticed it hadn't taken him long to drop the honorific.

"Komamura-taichou's beatin' himself up for not noticing. It's been a hell of a lot easier to read his moods now that he's not wearing that helmet." Iba tilted his head forward, so that he was looking at me over the rims of his sunglasses. "Might help him to know that he wasn't the only one didn't see something was wrong."

"I'll track him down," I promised. I would, too. It would be a natural enough thing to do and would only help me avoid suspicion. Besides, we _both_ missed Tousen, both wanted him back.

He straightened up, shook the thuggish cool right back around him like a cloak. "Anyhow, glad to see your holdin' up." And with that, he headed back to work, and despite his usual swagger, I could see the weight of worry pressing down on him.

Poor bastard. I wished I could tell him the truth, could trust he'd understand _why_ these people were dead-_had_ to die-but that was a risk I could not take.

It was a risk my captain could not allow himself to take with _his_ best friend, either.

If Tousen-taichou could put friendship aside for a higher goal, then so could I.

I just hoped...

I had friends here, you know? People I wished I could make understand just how badly Soul Society needed this kind of cleansing, could understand the need to take these kinds of measures.

Matsumoto. Iba. Abarai. I would fight to the death to save any one of them. I would have even if I had not been told I may have to fight alongside them, fight for them, to keep up appearances until such time as I was needed. The problem was, it wasn't just appearances, not any more.

In the end, Tousen-taichou would have told me, there are sacrifices we must make for the greater good, for the long term. For what is _right_.

Maybe it was guilt. maybe it was morbid curiosity, but I inevitably found myself walking up to my might-have-been, the person I was only pretending to be.

I know _I_ was not abandoned. I know _my_ captain did not deceive me. I was trusted-with a dangerous job, with knowledge of what had _really_ happened to the man who had been my hero, who had been my captain's captain.

The sorrow I only pretended to feel had etched grooves in Kira's face. It didn't look right on him. I hate to say it, but the sympathy I felt for him kept sliding dangerously close to contempt.

"Yo. Kira. Glad to see you made it."

"You're probably the only one." From the way he said it under his breath, and from the way his "Hello, Hisagi-san," was notched up noticeably louder, I gathered I wasn't meant to hear the first part of that comment.

"I was kind of wondering, you know. If you'd be here." I rested a hand on his shoulder-he was so stiff and unbending his joints would probably be screaming at him tomorrow. "How are you holding up, anyhow?"

"About as well as can be expected. You?"

"About the same." He was trying so hard not to show things. That, I could get. Better to show a mask, and let people assume they knew what was underneath. "They have no idea what it's like, do they?"

"No. But maybe it's better that way."

Again, he spoke so softly, I could barely hear him. Contempt was now being paced by concern. I couldn't help it-there's part of me that still felt kind of responsible for him. This would be so much easier if he'd been brought into the fold, but that would never happen. Aizen had deemed him not strong enough, not motivated enough, and that was that. "I'm not sure what you mean, Kira."

"Would you want them to know what it's like to fail so miserably?"

No, but unlike him, I was only facing the possibility of failure. Then again, I was also facing a lot more than simple shame if that failure came to pass. But it was all going to work out. Everything was going to be okay.

I shrugged. "We did what we could. You know that, I know that. You can't listen to what anyone else says." Okay, that didn't come out right at _all_. "Um, not that anyone's saying anything. I meant, _if_ they were saying anything."

"I can imagine."

I'm certain he could. I was getting tired of people's conversations cutting off when I walked in the room, but when it happened to me it was only the sound of people not knowing what to say. The silences Kira walked in on probably sounded a little bit different. I'd raised my sword against my captain. He'd raised it in defense of his. Normally, one deed would be shameful and the other honorable, but nothing was as it should be these days.

A flash of rosy gold caught both our attentions: Matsumoto, still lovely even as she carried a bloated corpse out to the Fourthies waiting outside. Kira couldn't take his eyes off of her. At least I assume it was _her_ he was watching. "I can't blame them - it's not like I didn't..."

"Didn't what, Kira?" I had no idea what he was about to say, and from the way he finished his sentence with a hasty 'didn't make mistakes,' I probably never would figure it out for sure.

Interesting, though. Sounded like he might be blaming himself. He shouldn't be, but he was. I told myself to remember that. At the same time, it didn't seem like he was looking for sympathy, either. Or forgiveness.

I laughed softly. "No. Neither of us did. We were just duped."

No, no mistakes on either of our parts, but Kira was the only one who was duped. Everything was going to be okay.

"And ignorance is an excuse? I should have asked Gin-taichou what we were doing, not just obediently followed like a dog!" His rant was loud enough to start attracting attention, but he dropped his voice just as people began to focus on our conversation. "I was too trusting."

He said that like it was a fault. This time, it was my turn to raise my voice. I even topped Kira's earlier display by waving my hands about as I talked, and before I knew it, I was yelling. "You're _supposed_ to be able to trust your captain. If you can't trust your captain..."

I brought myself up short. Not quite everyone was looking-Iba, Oomaeda, Sasakibe-but it would no doubt hit the rumor mill sooner rather than later. Wonderful. I managed to get my voice back down to its normal register. I shouldn't have let it slip in the first place. "It's a hell of a thing, Kira. I still can't believe they're gone."

Kira had covered his face. Why, I don't know. I could probably guess, though. When he spoke, it wasn't just muffled, but said in such a rush that it took me a second to figure out what he'd said.

"Do you wish they'd taken you with them?"

Once they made it from my ears to my brain, Kira's words knocked aside all thought other than: _more than you could ever know_. Yelling and losing my temper was one thing. This, I could not afford to let slip.

I leaned in close, almost whispering. "Might want to be careful who you say that to."

I said it for both of us.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean, I mean..." The tremors started small, but took him down to his knees.

He should be stronger than this. The Kira I knew was stronger than this. Had more pride than this. But in this place, right now...

Kira had seen this place before, seen the carnage, but from what I had been told, he should have no memory of what he'd seen. Or maybe things were starting to creep in through the cracks. Aizen's hypnosis was strong, but how strong? How long before memory of what Kira _really_ saw began to push through?

And how _much_ had he seen?

_Everything's going to be all right._

I leaned down so I could still whisper in his ear, still talk him through this. I had to get him back on his feet and stable again. I-we-couldn't afford drawing too much notice. I had to get him to see that everything was going to be okay.

I had to help him keep it together. Just for now. Just long enough to know how much trouble he might be. Until then, I needed him to trust me.

"You have got to hold it together, especially now, especially where everyone can see you. C'mon Kira... you can do this. I know what it's like, I know how fucking _hard_ it is, how fucking miserable, how much you just want to pack it all in-'cause you do, don't you?" Leaning was beginning to make my head swim, so I crouched down to his level. "It's going to be okay, though. I'll help you, just like you helped me back in the Academy. You remember that, don't you?"

He was quiet for a long time. Too long. I had no idea what was going through his head. What memories he might be sorting out.

I reached out, rested a hand on the back of his neck. Reminded him I was here. Reminded him of what I had just said. Reminded him that it was going to be okay. That the nightmare was over.

"Kira?"

"Yes, senpai?" His voice may have been muffled, but he sounded like _Kira_ again. As he stood up, he seemed much more composed than before.

"Thank you, Hisagi-san. You're right."

He held his hand out to me. It was meant as a courtesy, since I obviously didn't need any help standing up. Still, I took it. Too many close calls. Too many reminders of how badly things could still go. No wonder my legs felt a little shaky.

Still, I knew I looked as confident and collected as Kira now seemed.

"Course I'm right. Everything's going to work out for the best." There it was again, that feeling that I was close to the edge, that things could tip over to disaster. If only I could explain... "It may not seem like it, but it will. Trust me."

Kira's smile was one I think I last saw back in his Academy days. "I always have."

If I felt like a shit when talking to Iba, I felt even more so now. At the same time I was angry at Kira, angry at his trustingness, that trust he saw as a flaw, that trust I _needed_...

Thank goodness for Matsumoto's sense of timing. She called out in greeting, and even though it was forced and brittle, her smile was still glorious.

"Matsumoto-san! Good to see you." I got a _look_ from Sasakibe at that. "Under the circumstances, I mean."

Yeah, I think I stammered a bit.

I suppose her greeting to Kira wasn't too chilly for propriety but I couldn't help wincing on the poor guy's behalf. Yeah, I was back to feeling sorry for him as he looked at me for reassurance and then back to Matsumoto as he stumbled through his return greeting.

"I want - um..."

I really hoped he wasn't planning to apologize for defending his captain, even though it meant raising his sword against Matsumoto. He was better than that. Or should have been.

"Yes?" Matsumoto was all but daring him to bring it on.

"Um, I just remembered something I have to talk to Nanao-san about." He scurried off, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to buy the poor bastard a drink or kick him in the ass. Either way, it was a relief when he left. Talking to him had really... I don't know. Thrown me off balance, somehow.

"Damn... Gotta say, I feel kind of sorry for the guy."

I did. Mostly. I just didn't get how I could go from wanting to pick him up and dust him off one minute and hoping he'd fall off a cliff the next. It would be so much easier if I could just settle on one or the other.

"Really? I don't."

I wish I knew how to read her expression. I just knew I didn't want that kind of smile on her face when she was talking about _me_.

"It's not his fault. How many of us would have stood up to our captains if they seemed to be doing something a little..."

Kira had gone over to ask Ise about something. What? Or was he _telling_ her something? I forced my attention back to Matsumoto. It was harder than it should have been.

"All I'm saying is," I went on, "it's not like he knew what they were doing."

No, Kira didn't know, but the question was, how much did he suspect? That thought distracted me almost as much as the way Matsumoto was playing with her hair. It took me a moment to realize she had said something about Kira killing someone.

"Huh?" She really is beautiful. There's an obvious joke that could be made if I was stupid enough to say it was hard to look her in the eye. If I said that, though, it wouldn't be a joke. I'm afraid of what will happen if I look too long into those gorgeous eyes of hers. Of what I'll say. Of what she'll see.

"He's not angry at Gin."

A sidelong glance did well enough. I could read her expressions but not open up too much myself. "Well... no..." I took a deep breath and decided against pulling the conversation onto safer ground. I'd been alone-truly alone-for several days, now, and I needed to talk to someone. "I think that right now, maybe he... misses him?"

"He never really knew him, Hisagi."

No, I suppose he didn't. But _I_ knew _my_ captain. And I wanted him back.

She stopped fiddling with her hair and she looked me up and down. Did I mention that her eyes were absolutely gorgeous? "How are _you_ doing?"

"Missing my captain."

Sometimes, especially if a woman you're halfway in love with is looking at you closely, the truth is the only safe refuge. Besides, it was one of the few truths I could spare her. It may not have been much, but it was something.

"I'm sorry." Before I could stop her, she pulled me into a hug. She pulled back before I could return it, but I could still feel her warmth, still feel her arms, even after she let me go. "That was mean of me, wasn't it?"

"Ah, it's been a rough time for everyone." I found myself looking for Kira again. He was slinking away from Ise-a very put-upon looking Ise. "I also think he feels like shit over what happened to Hinamori."

I know _I_ did. At least she was still alive, and would likely make a full recovery. At first, when Isane's message first came through, I thought Hinamori had been killed. It wasn't until much later that I realized Aizen had kept his promise. Everything was going to be okay. He'd told me that once before, and I told myself that now.

Still, for a few hours, there...

"Were they close?"

Funny, how it can become hard to remember that what's important to one person may not be so important to someone else. Everything that happened back then is so burned in my memory, I feel like _everyone_ must think about it all the time.

I nodded, and tried to pull back from the events replaying in my mind. "Those two and Renji. Yeah, pretty close. I mean, after that trip to the living world back in the Academy-they were pretty tight. As friends, I mean."

I'm pretty sure she knew the meat of what I was talking about, now that I reminded her. I didn't talk about it much, and she probably never would have remembered if I hadn't said anything, but a couple of stories about how my face got all messed up had made their way around the Gotei 13 even before I graduated from the Academy. Some of the stories about the scars were just guesses. _All_ of the stories about the tats were.

"Oh." She leaned back against one of the desks, somehow finding a mostly clean spot in all the chaos. "It's all so freaking complicated."

I laughed quietly even as I looked around to make sure Soi Fong-taichou wasn't about to come after us for slacking. "Yeah, you can say that again. I mean, just three days ago-has it only been three days? I never would have thought..."

Three days, and how many years leading up to this? How much waiting? Those years had gone quickly in comparison to this half-week. Of course, I wasn't so damned alone during those years. I wasn't the only one waiting. "I tell you, standing there with my sword at Tousen-taichou's throat? Hardest damn day of my life."

Again, the truth was the best and easiest thing to say.

There was a long silence. Matsumoto seemed to find her tabi to be very interesting indeed. "We did what we had to," she said after a while.

I knew who she was thinking of. How could I _not_ know? Most of the stories about her and Ichimaru-taichou were probably about as accurate as the stories about my scars, but still...

There was more than one reason I was glad it had been decided I would assist Tousen-taichou, and not Ichimaru-taichou.

"Even Kira." Poor, duped Kira. I know Ichimaru-taichou was fond of the guy in his own way. Still, I had to wonder what it was like to be so used, so deceived. It was easier than I liked to imagine myself in his place. "I just wish I knew how it could have taken him so damn long to figure out that his captain had gone rotten."

Part of me said he had to have suspected _something_. I mean, Kira wasn't stupid-even as a pawn you didn't get to be vice captain by being _stupid_. And what was it he'd said to Ise?

"Gin was always good at disguising his intentions." She must have learned something from the guy, then, because I couldn't tell what was behind those words. Her eyes were so unreadable, they might as well have been behind smoked glass.

"So was Tousen." Kira was a problem. _Might_ be a problem. Meanwhile, though, I had to be the supportive senpai. "Look, it's just that I've got an idea what he's going through right now, so cut him a break, okay? But..."

"But what?"

Decades ago, I had to throw Aoga and Kanisawa to the wolves. I didn't know that's what was going to happen at the time, and I didn't _want_ to do it-Aizen later said he had never expected things to get so out of control. But what was done was done, and we were committed to our course. I'd already had one reminder of my cause on my face. That day gave me another. Tattoo on one side, scars on the other, both of them marking my cause for all to see.

"I got to wonder what happened to him, sometimes."

Aizen had simply been trying to find out what happened to Muguruma-taichou and the others. I'd only just heard the full story-or at least what little Aizen-taichou and Tousen-taichou knew of the full story-several months before.

"He wasn't like this back in the Academy, all twitchy and nervous."

To be honest, I hadn't paid much attention to Kira and the others until after that day. Then, a trap meant to catch someone else had backfired horribly. Fortunately, Aizen and Ichimaru were around to stop things before more than a couple of people had been killed.

"Ichimaru's influence, I guess." People had been so quick to accept that Ichimaru-taichou had betrayed them. No surprise there-he was a hard man to like. Maybe Kira was right. His loyalty to his captain could become a liability.

It was a thought I couldn't un-think. I knew I'd be plagued by it for days.

"Maybe." There was a long pause after she spoke. I wondered what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about. Then, as sudden as a flash of lightning, there was another smile. For a moment, everything changed. "What are you doing after this is done?"

"Drinking? Drinking a lot?"

Yes. That sounded like a good idea. Or maybe not.

"You want some company?"

I grinned. Like I'd ever say no to her. Besides, the offer had sounded genuine, and not just out of politeness. "Damn straight." There were a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea, and there was a better than excellent chance I'd only feel worse for it after everything. "Speaking of company, Iba's been a lifesaver. Him and Komamura-taichou."

"How's Iba at holding his drink?" Her smirk reminded me why getting too drunk would be a _terrible_ idea.

"Not sure any of us will be, after today." I knew I should have begged off, but I didn't. I couldn't. "Bet I can still drink him under the table, though."

"And I'll drink you _both_ there, and drag you home."

"That a promise? You'll drag us home? Both of us? Back to _your_ home?" Yeah, I was playing with fire. Just like a moth.

"You wish. You'll be going back to your barracks. But since I'm nice, I'll make sure you look good and pretty." Matsumoto pulled out a tube of lipstick and uncapped it to reveal something the color of an embarrassed flamingo. "This color would probably look smashing with your hair."

I stepped back quickly. Something that pink would give even _Yachiru_ serious pause. "It'd look better on Iba, trust me." Now that I'd suggested it, I knew the Women's Association would be after it. With cameras. "Look, we'd better get back to work before Soi Fong-taichou gets on our case."

"She's such a bitter old maid sometimes." Matsumoto's smile lost some of its wickedness. I wondered what it was she saw walking away when Ichimaru-taichou walked away. I wished I could tell her that everything was going to be okay.

I wondered why Ichimaru wanted her kept out of this.

"As soon as we're done, we'll collect Iba and go. You're buying the first round," she said.

"You mean Iba's buying the first round." I wanted to talk longer, but it would become noticeable if we stood around much longer. "Later." I lifted my hand in farewell and turned back to my work. I can only assume she did the same.

Some days, it's harder than others to keep my mind on our goal.

We probably wouldn't be too much longer. The main chamber was just about cleared out. All that was left were the smaller rooms off the back. Those I knew hadn't been disturbed yet, at least not by anyone of any significant rank or power.

I would know, once that happened.

Now that I thought about it, I wouldn't have to worry about going out for drinks after. We'd have another mess to clean up.

Once someone with enough reiatsu went into a certain room in the back, a nasty little trap would be set. Nothing that any halfway competent shinigami couldn't handle-at least in terms of dispatching the Hollow that would be released.

The paranoia, on the other hand, the second-guessing, the looking for traps...

Yes, it would lead to lowered morale and rampant suspicion if it all went down the way it was supposed to, but it also could make things difficult.

I was the perfect soldier. The one who stayed loyal. The one who made the right decision and put his sword to his captain's throat.

Perfect soldier, perfect illusion.

I paused in my work to watch Nanao at hers. She bent over each body with a terrible focus. From time to time, she paused to shake her head as if trying to shake away her fatigue. Fatigue or not, I knew she wasn't missing much.

Stupid, so stupid to assume this was only going to be a cleanup and not a full investigation. There were so many things that could trip me up. Nanao remembering whether or not I had a knife with me when I came in here. Kira starting to remember things now that Aizen-taichou's zanpakutou was no longer present. Someone remembering where they'd once seen a violet glow.

Going over to Nanao probably wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had, but I couldn't leave it alone, even though I could very well make things worse.

Nanao was scowling at a scuffed footprint as if trying to intimidate it into submission, and I knew that if she did suspect me, I wouldn't stand a chance. She would follow that suspicion down every last trail, and into every last bolt-hole, until she ferreted out the truth.

As I walked over, I actually thought about what would happen if I was found out. It wouldn't be pretty, that was certain.

I tried to be quiet about it, but she froze, and slowly lifted her head to glare up at me.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," I joked.

Somewhere in the past few days, I must have picked up a death wish. Probably around the time I finally stopped believing that everything was going to be okay.

Because-let's be honest, now-just telling myself that over and over wasn't working any more. Not really. And...

...and the glasses came off. I was a dead man. I took a step back, not that this would save me. I almost blurted out everything, but I only got as far as "um..."

Before I could condemn myself, she gave me a reprieve. She looked as strung out as I felt. I could tell her every last nerve was frayed to the breaking point, but at least she was reasonably polite about telling me she was at the end of her patience. I tried to apologize, and was cut short.

"What. Is. It?"

I had to think fast. Despite what almost happened, I couldn't tell her what was really going on. There had to be a way to find out if she suspected anything without _making_ her suspicious. Damn it, there had to be something...

Ah, yes. There was my answer, helping Rangiku with a bloated corpse. Also, Nemu was headed up to the back, maybe? That meant I maybe didn't have much time.

"It's Kira," I blurted out.

I shouldn't have been surprised that she looked at me as if I had had a few too many hits to the head. "He's helping Matsumoto-fukutaichou with one of the dead."

No, no, no. That wasn't what I needed to know. I knew that already and told her as much. "He was over here earlier talking to you, and..."

And I had no idea what to say next. Nanao didn't seem to notice, though.

"He was? I don't..." She ducked her head, resting a knuckle on her chin as she racked her brain. She'd chewed the guy out for something, so she should remember. Right?

She returned from whatever thoughts she was lost in, looking up at me. "Is there a problem?"

So many answers to that question. So many that would bring everything crashing down around me.

In a way, it was tempting to start that crash, just so it would be over.

But I had a job to do. I had a man's honor to uphold, and my word to keep. Finding out how much Nanao knew, or what she was guessing at was part of that job.

"It's just-" Nemu was still in the back, but nothing had happened. Something should have happened by now, shouldn't it? Maybe something had happened to the trap...

Now was _not_ the time to be thinking about how Aizen-taichou might have gotten something wrong. Not the time at all. I collected my thoughts and hoped I'd done so before Nanao could start wondering where my mind had wandered off to.

"I'm worried about him," I blurted out. Something still could happen. I might not have much time. And was I worried about Kira?

Again, I found myself in a situation where the truth-or part of the truth-was the safest path to go down. I _was_ worried.

I was worried about what he might remember. I was also worried for his well-being. Having both thoughts in my mind at the same time wasn't very comfortable, but I had no idea how to reconcile them.

Nanao didn't say anything, but she looked at me as if expecting me to continue, and so I did.

"About what people think about him, or..." There was so much I could say, but it was hard to get out the words. The right words. Words that would tell me what I needed to know without giving away too much.

"Or the rest of us," I continued, almost frantic. "The rest of us who served under..."

I felt that even saying their names would give everything away. My voice trailed off. "Well, you know," I finished. My shoulders hunched nervously then sagged in something that wasn't quite relief.

"As far as I know, which isn't much, no fault has been found with Kira-fukutaichou's behavior."

_But what about mine?_ I wanted to ask. What did she know? What had she heard? I thought about what I'd said to Kira earlier in the day and once again felt that burning mix of sympathy and animosity.

"If there's something I should know, Hisagi-fukutaichou, please tell me sooner rather than later," she snapped. "As you can see, I still have quite a lot of work to do."

If she did suspect something, she'd want to keep me talking, right? I should just leave, but it was hard not to keep talking. "He just hasn't seemed like himself of late, is all. And I've known the guy for years. He's been twitchy as hell."

_And what about me? Have you noticed anything about me?_

I kept on stepping back from her, back from the galleries. There was Kira, going up the steps with Rangiku. Nemu hadn't been enough to trigger the trap (What was it with her, anyhow? There'd always been something a little off about her, everyone said so...) but maybe they would be. They'd be able to handle it, though. But maybe Kira would panic. Yeah, I could see that. Matsumoto was capable-more than capable, really-but the idea of her being caught in that room without reliable backup...

She'd be in there with Kira. If there was an investigation, they'd be the first two anyone would talk to. Who knew what Kira would say?

"And not just recently, either." I looked back up at the galleries. They were almost at the door. Not much time left, assuming the trap still worked. Part of me wanted to shout out a warning. For a moment, I thought I actually heard a Hollow's cry.

"Look. I don't know how to say this, but even before Aizen-taichou faked his death, things seemed... off." Was that when I started telling myself that everything was going to be okay? When Kuchiki Rukia's sentence was handed down and all of a sudden Tousen-taichou's _someday_ became _now_? I had no idea if she was even listening to me, but I couldn't stop talking.

"You know... I was the one who had to drag Kira off to the brig after he and Hinamori went at each other when we found the dummy Aizen-taichou had left behind."

Funny, how I could remember the strain of holding him back, how steel-taut he'd been, and then how limp and heavy he'd gone once it all sank in.

I think I could remember it because that's when it all started sinking in for me. I'd already committed myself, had already shed blood, but that...

Kira hadn't deserved any of this. Maybe he hadn't deserved Ichimaru's full confidence, but that didn't mean he could be discarded.

_Just like Muguruma-taichou_, I thought, and wished I hadn't. This wasn't what I had come over here for.

"I'm curious. Did he say anything to you just now? Matsumoto scared him off before I could get anything out of him."

If he had said anything, would she tell me? Would I be able to tell if she wasn't telling me?

"Nothing I recall as unusual." Smooth as ever. "What was it you think he was about to tell you?"

I had no idea what to say. I looked up at the door. Kira and Matsumoto had been gone almost long enough. Maybe nothing would happen. Maybe something would happen, and I could get myself out of this.

"He was in here before, you know. Back then."

She grew more alert, more focused. Was she beginning to suspect _Kira_? She could have found out there was a fourth person in here... and would never even imagine it was me.

"I..."

It would be so easy. But could I live with myself?

I believed in my cause. I believed-_believe_-I had done what was necessary. But this was different.

"I wonder if he actually saw anything, or if he was under one of Aizen-taichou's illusions. He was there under Ichimaru-taichou's orders, right?"

She said nothing. For a long time, she said nothing.

"At least, that's what I heard."

And I had no idea what she was thinking. All I knew is that she _was_ thinking.

"What do you think?"

Nothing.

I waited.

"Ise-fukutaichou?"

She shook herself, as if trying to clear water from her ears.

"My apologies. I was distracted." She looked up at me, truly focusing on me for maybe the first time ever since I had known her. And, for the first time, I thought I could tell what she might be thinking.

I had to turn away. I was doing the right thing. I had fought for justice, even though it might not be recognized as such.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou?"

I had friends who had just walked into a trap. Maybe it wouldn't work. Maybe it just wouldn't work for Nemu-always was something odd about her, everyone said so-but it would spring now.

When I finally turned to talk to her, I wasn't sure what I was going to say.

Maybe I would have apologized for bothering her with all this nonsense. Maybe I would tell her what really happened in here.

It didn't matter, though, because before I could say anything, the trap was sprung.

There were screams and yells, and all I could think was that I wished I still had Kazeshini at my side. I thought I recognized Matsumoto's voice rising above the din, and the sudden burst of smoky reiatsu I recognized as Haineko's.

"Kira's back there with her," I said. Somewhere in all the confusion, I had grabbed onto Nanao's sleeve.

For a moment, I saw it. I saw Kira, sliced across the gut. I saw Matsumoto, head tipped back, gored through the neck by a Hollow's claw.

A regrettable accident. It never should have gone that far. That's what Aizen said, after Aoga and Kanisawa were killed.

_"Everything will be all right."_

He'd said that, too.

I heard the Hollow's scream and felt the sense of its presence fade abruptly. Matsumoto had defeated it.

Everything was all right.

I had no choice but to believe that.


End file.
